


Alright, hold on

by nofeartina



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Boys being oblivious, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Sexual Tension, accidental sex au, handjobs, isak and even are neighbors, romantic tension (if that's a thing?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-08-22 19:15:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16603928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nofeartina/pseuds/nofeartina
Summary: It starts with friendship, and they never meant to add sex to that. It just sort of... happened.or5 times Isak and Even accidentally have sex and 1 time it isn’t so accidental





	1. Friends can totally watch porn together and nothing can happen… no they can’t

**Author's Note:**

> I've been talking about this AU for a couple of weeks now and finally, here's the first chapter! The rest is all written and I'll post a new chapter every Monday. :)
> 
> The lovely Irazor betaed this and made it so much better. <3
> 
> As always, I hope you guys enjoy.

Isak is drunk. Drunk and horny. Jesus, what a pathetic mix.

He was hoping he’d pull tonight, would settle for a quick BJ in a toilet or in an abandoned bedroom at this point. He’s not saying that he hasn’t had sex in forever and that it’s maybe making him a bit desperate, but he’s not… not saying it either.

What a bust.

What a complete waste of time.

Well. Not a  _ complete _ waste of time. The preparty had been  _ fun _ , even as it turned into a real party at some point during the evening, right until it had been broken up by the police. They had all been there, the old squad from Nissen, and he hasn’t had a chance to hang with them all in a good while. Not now that they’re all in different schools doing different things.

Not now that he’s been spending so much time with Even.

Better not think about that, not right now. He’s way too drunk for those kinds of thoughts.

He definitely shouldn’t think about Even’s hands, or how big they are. How long his fingers are. Those veins that work like intricate mappings over the back of his hands and further up his arms, disappearing under his sleeves. Better not think about those big, full lips, his blue eyes, that long slender torso and his legs, oh god his legs, that go on for days in those tight pants he likes to wear.

For a brief second Isak wonders what Even’s dick looks like, if it’s as long as the rest of him.

But yeah, no. He definitely really, really shouldn’t think about  _ that _ .

He shakes his head, tries to direct his focus back on getting the key in the lock so he can get inside his apartment and not stand here out on the ledge like a  _ fool _ , but it’s like the key doesn’t fit or is too big or maybe it’s too small? It’s just not the same size as it was the last time he unlocked his door, that’s for sure.

While struggling, he distantly notices the sounds of the front door to the stairway opening below, and that someone is ascending the stairs. But he doesn’t really pay attention until the footsteps grow closer and he starts to recognize them. Even has barely set foot on the last set of stairs, before Isak starts whining.

“Even, come help me, the key won’t fit.”

Even huffs out a laugh, and instead of taking Isak seriously he proceeds to unlock his own door, standing there all tall and pretty,  _ how dare he _ . He opens his door a couple of centimeters, and then he looks at Isak.

And it’s not until now that Isak notices. Even is flushed, cheeks deliciously red. His eyes are blown, and he has that mellow quality to his face that Isak knows quite well.

“Are you high?” Isak asks, squints at how pitched and incredulous his voice is.

Even doesn’t even try to deny it, he just collapses against the doorframe, like all the air has leaked out of him, and says, “Oh god yes, so high.”

“How am I going to get inside then?” Isak groans and puts his forehead against his door in agony.

He turns his face and sees Even shrug, lick his lips in what is probably his biggest tell when he’s high, and then lift his hand holding a bag.

“I’ve got chips?” he says, nods towards his apartment and opens the door a few centimeters wider, inviting Isak in.

And suddenly Isak can’t think of anything else than those chips, all greasy and salty and flavory, and he needs them in his mouth like two seconds ago.

He nods eagerly, follows Even inside, deposits his jacket and shoes somewhere in the hallway and crashes hard onto Even’s couch while he listens to Even scrambling through his kitchen to find a bowl for the chips. Because he knows that’s how Isak prefers it.

He sits down heavily on the couch next to Isak, and Isak already has a hand in the bowl, grabbing as much as he can. Even doesn’t even complain when Isak tries to cram it all inside his mouth in one go.

The taste of salt and grease explodes in his mouth and he can’t help but moan loudly and lean his head back until he’s resting against the backrest.

He glances at Even who appears just as gone as Isak as he crunches away too.

“Why are chips so  _ good _ ?” Even asks with his mouth still full and Isak just hums his agreement.

“Yeah, almost good enough to forget about the sex I was going to have tonight,” Isak says, maybe a tad too bitterly, but he’s never been good at hiding his emotions when drunk.

“You were on a date?” Even asks.

“Nah man, I wish. I was at a preparty with Jonas and the rest of the gang, but it got out of hand and was broken up by the police. I was at least hoping for a blowjob tonight.”

Isak takes another handful of chips, ignores how his dick is stirring at just the thought of a blowjob, lips and heat and suction and warmth, and he really needs to think about something else. He can’t get a boner sitting here next to Even.  _ Even _ of all people.

Because Even has a crush. 

Isak suddenly wants to ask him, just casually try to suss out how it’s going with that, with the unnamed person Even has been longing for for a good while now. He won’t tell Isak who it is and Isak is so curious, but at the same time he’s... not. It’s easier to ignore if he doesn’t know who it is. And what if that crush suddenly decides they want Even too? Yeah, no, better not think about that. 

But he’s too drunk to control his mouth, so instead, he finds himself asking, “What about you?”

And Even doesn’t hesitate, just says, “Oh yeah, I could really go for a blowjob too. Jesus, I always get so horny when I’m high.”

He follows this statement by putting his hand next to his crotch, real close, almost like an afterthought, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, and Isak’s mouth turns dry in an instant, almost too dry to swallow the chips in his mouth.

He manages to swallow them somehow, but his eyes are on Even’s hand although he’s trying to pretend he’s not looking. His mind’s running a mile a minute trying to figure out what to say, what he  _ can _ say when Even’s that close to touching his junk like it’s  _ normal _ for them to do that in front of each other.

“Oh I know,” Even suddenly says, pulling Isak from his mind, “Let’s watch some porn.”

Isak swallows hard, his dick twitching in his pants. He wants to say  _ let’s watch you instead _ , but what comes out of his mind is a muffled “What?”

“Yeah, I know just the one…” Even mutters and leans over to pick up the remote. He turns on the tv as he picks up his phone with the other hand. “Two friends can totally watch porn together, right?”

“Right,” Isak says. Or croaks. Or something that at least resembles words because Even doesn’t react to it.

And before Isak knows it the television screen is lit up and two very good-looking dudes are kissing. Right in front of him. While he’s sitting next to one of his best friends. Who’s clearly hard, judging by the bulge in his pants.

Isak doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. His fingers are itching to do something, touch himself, touch Even ( _ no, bad idea _ ), but instead, his hand is just lying there on his thigh, useless, fingers twitching, so close to the bulge in his own pants that’s growing by the second.

He’s already starting to sweat and he’s dying to know what Even looks like, if he’s just as affected, but he can’t get himself to look. As if looking at Even now would somehow be crossing the line, even though they’re already way past what their friendship is usually like.

So Isak looks straight ahead, not nearly as relaxed as he wants to appear to be, and watches the two guys kiss and touch. They’re so naked and there’s so much skin and then there are hands on a hard dick and Even gasps quietly before he says, “This guy knows how to suck dick, just wait and see.”

Isak swallows hard. And then does it again. He can’t believe they’re doing this. He watches as one dude gets on his knees, eyes looking up at the other’s face and Isak wants so badly, can almost feel the ghost of a hand wrapping around his dick, and he needs to touch, needs to do  _ something _ . He can feel his dick pulsing in his briefs. This isn’t helping his horniness in any way.

And then,  _ then _ , out of the corner of his eye, he sees Even’s hand creep along the couch, slowly, as if it’s a totally coincidental slide along his thigh until it’s right next to his own dick. Even’s fingers are twitching, like he’s fighting the urge to touch himself as well, and Isak has to look away, can’t watch that hand so close to that bulge or he’ll go mad. 

So he fixes his eyes on the television. But seeing the dude enthusiastically lick over the other’s dickhead, teasing and prodding, making it wet and glistening, well. That doesn’t do anything for Isak’s resolve.

He hears the click of Even’s throat as he swallows, hears his intake of breath like he’s about to speak, and Even has barely asked, “Is it alright if I…?” before Isak answers, “Yeah.”

For a long second Isak worries that he was too quick, that he gave too much away and that Even is wondering about how easy it was to get Isak on board with whatever it is he wants to do. But then Even pops the button on his pants and pulls down the zipper and wrestles the pants down his hips enough that he can get his hand inside his briefs.

“They’re just so goddamn tight,” he mutters and then sighs as he touches himself.

Isak knows that they’re just bros being bros, watching porn together. He  _ knows _ . He tries to make his eyes look elsewhere, forces himself to look at the screen to see what the dude is doing to get the other guy to make those sounds, but it doesn’t work for more than a couple of seconds at a time.

His eyes are constantly drawn to the movement inside Even’s pants, how big Even’s hand looks inside those briefs, the slick sounds that escape accompanied by quiet sighs and moans from Even.

Isak has never been this turned on in his life.

He’s so hard, almost expects his dick to rip the seams of his pants to find a way out, and he wants to touch himself so badly, wants nothing more than to push a hand down his own pants to ease some of the tension that’s building in his body.

He’s panting, just from this, just from watching Even’s hand move (and maybe a little bit from the porn as well).

“Don’t you want a go too?” Even asks, all oblivious and ignorant of Isak’s struggles.

Isak nods, opens his pants to be able to get his hand inside, and the moment he touches his dick he’s in heaven. His eyes roll back in his head and he loses himself in the pleasure, somehow manages to forget about Even next to him. He rubs the palm of his hand over the tip to spread the moisture there around, like he loves to do.

Even makes a high-pitched sound that makes Isak feel like he’s put a finger into a socket. His entire body feels alive in a way that it hasn’t for a long, long time.

So he opens his eyes, wraps his hand around his dick and clenches his jaw to keep in the moan that wants to escape him. God, he can’t do this, he can’t be quiet and aloof while jerking off next to Even.

His eyes are once again caught by the movement of Even’s hand, and he tries to keep his head straight to at least appear to be looking at the television, which he’s not. He’s really not. He’s definitely full-on looking at Even now, watching every pull, every twist he makes, finding himself matching his speed and his movements unintentionally.

God, his hand feels so good, what Even’s doing looks so good, he wishes he could watch in vivid detail how Even’s hand looks on his dick. Except, it’s better he can’t. That’s an image he can’t have in his mind, burned into his retinas for all eternity to revisit over and over again every time he wanks. He shouldn’t even be thinking this, friends don’t think about what their friends look like when they touch themselves. Except... apparently, sometimes friends do.

At least Isak does. He’s doing it right now.

But for now, it has to be enough to watch Even’s hand work himself through his pants.

He speeds up when Even speeds up, watches in fascination how Even curls into himself a bit, how the moans spilling out of him are getting a little bit more audible, like it’s getting harder for him to keep them down. And then there’s a sharp inhale of breath followed by small  _ ah, ah, ah  _ sounds that make Isak pick up speed and then Even comes.

He can’t see it, but he can see how the front of Even’s briefs get wet, a small spot that grows with every second as Even keeps working himself, concentrating on the head now as he comes.

The smell of Even’s release hits Isak like a bag of bricks, and just like that Isak’s coming too.

He’s not quite as quiet about it as Even was, can’t keep the sounds in, and he pulls and pulls, body tight and pleasure pulsing through him like molten lava, and everything feels so good and easy after all this tension.

When he’s done he collapses back against the couch, like all his strings have been cut, and he lets himself soak in it and just breathe, eyes still closed. Every small twitch and movement of the fingers on his dick makes him shiver, and it just prolongs the pleasure for him.

This was probably the best wank he’s had in a good, long while and it takes him a few long seconds to remember that he’s sitting on Even’s couch, next to Even, with the porn still playing on the screen in front of them, judging by the sounds.

And just like that, the tension is back in his body, and he opens his eyes.

Even is melted into the couch next to him, hand still in his pants as well, mouth slack and eyes half-lidded as they’re focused on Isak’s hand.

Isak lets himself look for once, takes advantage of Even being distracted. He takes in the added flush on Even’s cheeks, the puffiness of his lips, his tongue peeking out between his teeth. It would be so easy to lean over and kiss Even, to push his tongue inside that mouth and taste him properly, feel those full lips against his own.

Even almost looks like he wouldn’t mind, not with the way he’s staring hungrily at where Isak’s hand is disappearing into his pants.

And maybe he wouldn’t mind  _ now _ , but what about in the morning when he remembers his crush? When he’s sober and looks back on this, and regrets that it wasn’t them instead of Isak?

Isak doesn’t want that. He’ll just take this instead, commit it to memory as much as possible and then keep it to himself like a treasured fantasy, something he knows probably won’t even feel real in a couple of months.

So he pulls his hand out, gets up from the couch and casually says, “I’m just going to clean up,” as he’s already stepping towards the bathroom.

“I told you it was good,” Even laughs, still loose and relaxed, making Isak jealous of his obliviousness. 

Isak doesn’t answer, doesn’t quite know the words yet for what this was. He closes the door behind him as he enters the bathroom, leans against it for a few long seconds and closes his eyes.

Fuck, what just happened?

He lets himself freak out for a few long seconds and then he cleans himself up.

Moments later he’s putting on his shoes and picking up his jacket from the floor. Even is hovering by the door to the hallway, looking casual, but his eyes are too wide and there’s a tension in his body that wouldn’t be there if he truly was. Isak can’t quite meet his eyes, afraid of what he’ll say or do if he does, so he puts all his focus on his clothes instead.

“Isak,” Even says just as Isak turns to open the front door. “Friends can totally watch porn together and nothing has to change, right?”

Isak nods. Looks at Even properly for the first time since leaving the bathroom. “Right,” he repeats.

And then he leaves Even’s apartment, walks the few steps to his own, and this time the key actually fits.

He sheds his clothes and falls face first into bed, buries his head under his pillow as if it could smother the doubts creeping into his mind.

Maybe normal friends can watch porn together without anything happening. He’s just not sure yet whether that applies to him and Even.

Well. At least he’s not desperately horny anymore. At least there’s that.

And with that thought in mind, aided by the alcohol and the orgasm, he manages to fall asleep.

 

 


	2. I’m fixing your faucet for you and now I’m sweaty and half naked and you’re drooling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are excited about the second chapter, I know I am excited about sharing it with you. :)
> 
> Wonderful Irazor grazed this with her betaing skills, thanks babe! <3 And a thank you to Immy for answering my questions about water in Norway. ;)
> 
> Without further ado, I hope you enjoy, my friends. :)

Isak keeps count in his head, is at 29 and fights to ignore the burn in his arms as he pushes up from the floor and mutters “30” to himself through clenched teeth. He collapses on the floor to catch his breath and get some blood back into his arms, before he rolls over and starts working on his abs instead.

He lifts his upper body from the floor, twists one way and then the other, enjoys the tightening of his core muscles, and descends to do it all over again.

He’s just reached 16 when there’s a frantic knock on his door, startling him into losing his count. He briefly considers the fact that he’s only wearing sweats but the knocking continues so frantically that he rushes from the floor to open the door as he is.

“Isak, you have to come help me,” Even says the second Isak opens the door. “The faucet–”

Even’s mouth is still open, like he’s stopped himself mid-sentence. But his eyes are sliding down the length of Isak’s body slowly, from his mouth to his clavicle, to his nipples and further down, down to where madness lies for Isak, and then slowly up again.

Entire battles have been lost and won by the time Even’s eyes find Isak’s again, and Even opens and closes his mouth a couple of times in a way that makes Isak feel entirely too self-assured and smug.

He knows that he’s been working out for a while this morning. Knows that it makes his muscles stand out, makes them look bigger than normal, knows that the veins are prominent with how fast the blood is running through them. He’s covered in a thin layer of sweat, just enough that his hair is starting to curl at the edges, just enough that the cold air of the hall is making his skin and nipples pebble.

He shouldn’t be this happy to be able to get such a reaction out of Even, but he can’t help crossing his arms in front of himself, making his bi- and triceps stand out even more, and he’s feeling pretty smug about how that makes Even’s eyes linger.

If nothing else, now he knows that Even likes that part of him.

Although it doesn’t really mean anything, or matter even, not when Even isn’t attracted to the rest of him. Not the way Isak is attracted to all of Even.

“What’s wrong?” he asks nonchalantly, like having Even look at him like this doesn’t make him feel like a peacock wanting to spread his tail.

Even clears his throat, seems to pull himself together a bit, and his eyes find Isak’s again.

“The faucet is doing that thing again,” he says, doesn’t have to say more because Isak knows.

He groans, takes a step back inside his apartment to grab the wrench still lying on the shelf next to the door because he hasn’t bothered to put it away since the last time.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re the best friend ever,” Even says as Isak picks up his keys and follows Even into the hallway, and then into his apartment. All the while Even’s still talking. “You know how much that dripping sound annoys me, I can’t think and I can’t breathe and it’s just constantly there, drip, drip, drip.”

Isak lets Even lead the way into the kitchen even though he’s been there a million times before, lets him talk without saying a word because he’s heard this spiel before.

“I need to study, Isak. You know how it is...” and Even keeps talking as Isak steps over the sink to assess what’s the matter this time.

This is the 4 th or 5 th time he’s fixing the faucet – and he knows Even has told Tom, the guy doing maintenance in their building. But for some reason he doesn’t prioritize Even, and it keeps leaking no matter how tight Isak makes it.

“How long has it been since you cleaned the head of it?” Isak asks just to change it up. He’s tired of just doing the same thing over and over again, there has to be something else wrong with it.

“Cleaned… the head?” Even asks, hesitantly, looking at Isak with wide eyes.

“Jesus, Even, you need to do that once in a while or it will clog.” 

Even makes a grimace. “But Isak, that’s what I have you for. Aren’t you happy that I told you about the available apartment right next to mine?” Even says teasingly.

Isak tries to fight the smile stretching across his face, and the fond eyeroll that follows.

“Yeah.  _ So _ happy.”

Even beams back at him, and Isak needs to do something else than just standing here half-naked, looking at Even’s bright eyes and that smile that Isak wants to kiss off his face. So he turns his attention to the faucet and starts to work.

But when he puts the wrench to it and pulls, nothing happens. The head is completely stuck, like it’s glued to the rest of the faucet and Isak strains to make it lose, puts more and more force into how hard he’s pulling.

He’s panting by the time he pauses, tries to change the angle of the wrench, and then he pulls again. He’s almost sorry that he just used so much energy on doing push-ups, because he’s not quite as strong as needed and the head is fighting him, not moving at all.

So he changes the angle again, leans in over the sink and really puts some force behind the wrench. He makes this pitiful sound as he strains, holds his breath during, and he’s starting to sweat a bit, probably getting red in the face from exertion.

He loosens the wrench one more time, finally free to breathe right, and says, “This is a real work-out, good thing I’m dressed for it,” and then he glances up at Even, smiling, fully expecting Even to smile back.

But that’s not what he sees.

Even is staring at his arms. His eyes are glued to Isak’s body, his mouth slack, eyes half-lidded and he looks like sex on a stick.

Isak freezes, eyes sliding over Even’s face, trying to take in what he’s seeing. There’s no doubt that Even is affected by Isak’s body and Isak shouldn’t, but he can’t help but look down to see if there’s a bulge in Even’s sweats.

He gulps when he sees it.  _ Gulps _ . Like something out of a cartoon.

He quickly diverts his eyes from that bulge, moves them back up to see if Even has noticed him looking. And when he does, he finds Even staring right into his eyes.

The way Even is looking at him makes him freeze again.

Even looks like he wants to  _ eat _ him. Isak wouldn’t mind if he did, but he’s not sure how to communicate that to Even when he’s just standing there looking irresistible, scrambling Isak’s mind to the point where he can’t form words.

“Ehm…” he eloquently states, eyes just briefly glancing at that bulge again and he knows that his own probably looks obscene by now, that those low-slung sweats he’s wearing certainly won’t hide how much he’s getting affected himself.

And then Even does the same.

Looks down at Isak’s bulge, looks at it far longer than Isak looked at his, and when his eyes find Isak’s again, they’re blown. And he wears that frown on his face that tells Isak that he’s wondering about something.

“Friends can… help each other out when they need it, right?” Even asks, slowly, like he’s picking the words carefully as he goes.

“Right,” Isak answers, not quite sure that Even’s heading in the direction that Isak wants him to.

“Friends can… touch each other without it having to mean anything, right?”

Isak swallows hard, needs some moisture in his mouth to be able to answer, because now he’s pretty sure he knows where this is going.

“Right,” he croaks, and his dick jumps in his pants.

“Because. I have a problem and I think you can help me with it,” Even says, eyes glancing down, then up to Isak’s again, that tongue peeking out, adding a playfulness to Even’s demeanor that makes blood rush through Isak’s entire body, makes him feel hot everywhere.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Isak answers and takes a step towards Even.

Even doesn’t move, bites his lip and sets his eyes on Isak’s hard dick, and looks so inviting that Isak takes another step forward. And then another, and another. Even slowly walks backward, but lets Isak get closer at the same time, until he’s hindered by the wall behind him and Isak is so close that he swears he can feel the heat that’s emanating from Even.

He stops while there’s still some distance between them, even though it’s hard. All he wants to do is feel Even’s body against his own, put his lips on his skin and get his dick on him in any way or shape, but he needs to be sure that they’re both on board with this.

“Isak,” Even whispers, licks his lips, eyes flitting between Isak’s eyes and his lips. And then he puts a finger in one of the pockets of Isak’s sweats and pulls him closer.

Isak knocks into him, meets him lips first and pushes Even up against the wall. He just wants to get closer, as close as humanly possible. He moans at the first taste of Even, moans at the feeling of how Even opens up to him immediately, and then there are tongues in the picture as well.

And holy moly Even can kiss.

Isak can feel it all the way from his scalp to his toes. How Even’s tongue strokes along his, how the taste of him spreads from his mouth throughout his entire body as heat and desperation. And it’s not long before Isak is grinding his erection against Even, making them both moan and lose focus of the kiss for a hot second.

None of them make any move to go further, seemingly both happy with just grinding against each other, driving each other closer and closer. Isak has never been kissed like this before, lazily but determined. It’s like Even could do this all day, like them kissing isn’t just the kick-off to getting to something else.

Even’s patient about it in a way that surprises Isak. He meticulously searches Isak’s lips, tongue and mouth, learns what makes Isak gasp and what makes him moan, and then he does it again, as if he wants to be sure of the discovery. It makes Isak’s toes tingle and builds a desperation in him that crashes over him in waves, makes him push closer even though there’s hardly any distance between them to begin with.

He works his hips, grinds against Even, loves how they fit against each other. How perfect Even’s dick feels against his, even through their pants. Isak is sure that if they were actually naked he would explode from hotness. Just this, just having Even’s hands on his bare shoulders and his arms is enough to make him pant and his balls pull up tight.

He pushes a hand in under Even’s t-shirt, needs to feel his warm skin. He feels a bit desperate, he’s already so close and they haven’t really done much. But Even is just so much, he’s everything Isak dreamed he would be and it’s so good to be this close to him. Isak doesn’t want this to end, but at the same time he’s hurtling towards the finish line, getting closer and closer with each grind.

Even makes this sound in his chest that reverberates through Isak, that he can feel  _ everywhere _ , and that’s game over for Isak.

He comes. Stuttering against Even, mouth going slack even as Even pushes his tongue deeper inside, pulls Isak even closer with his hands low on his back, and then Even comes against him as well, staccato breath pushed into Isak’s mouth as he rubs against him, hips working in short, shallow jabs as he empties himself inside his sweats.

And Isak desperately wants to see Even’s face, but he’s once again hit with this sense that he won’t be able to make it out of this if he sees what Even looks like when he comes. So he keeps his eyes closed and lets their combined weight hold them up against the wall when it’s over, even though his entire body feels like it’s made of jelly.

They stay there, breathing against each other, Isak’s face against Even’s throat, and Isak lets himself believe that it’s real, just for a couple of seconds. Lets himself escape in the idea of how this is what it would be like if only Even liked him back.

And then Even starts to move under him and Isak reluctantly pulls back, tries to make a grimace that works for this situation. He’s not sure he manages, not sure his face does what he tells it to do, but Even’s eyes are soft when they look at him, a small pleased smile playing on his lips. Isak can’t with that smile so close, not right now. So he takes a step back, out of Even’s heat.

Even doesn’t say anything, just looks at Isak in a way Isak has never seen before, and it makes him feel unsettled. He turns a bit and makes a face at how the cum inside his briefs is starting to cool.

It elicits a small laugh from Even, and he looks so pleased when he says, “We’re good at making messes out of each other, huh?”

“Yeah,” Isak huffs back, but he’s not sure how real the laugh sounds to Even. It sounds pretty fake to himself. 

He needs a distraction, so he refocuses back on the tap.

“I’m just going to give this another try and then I’ll be out of your hair,” Isak says, studiously ignoring how weird his voice sounds.

He walks over to the sink, sets the wrench around the head again, and this time it comes off immediately, even though he’s not straining nearly as much as he did the last time. He exhales in relief, glad that he can go back to his own apartment to wash and to change his clothes, and maybe try not to think about what just happened too much.

As he leaves, Even hangs back and watches him unlock his front door. Just as Isak opens it he says, “Thanks for all your help. You’re a good friend, Isak.”

Isak stands there halfway inside, his back to Even, and his eyes closed. Swallows hard to keep the emotion down and out of his voice.

“Yeah, no problem. Anytime.”

And that anytime haunts him for the rest of the day.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up Monday! 
> 
> And I guess I'm posting a spoiler for the next chapter this Friday on my tumblr, so keep an eye out for that. ;)


	3. We platonically slept together last night because of circumstances and we both woke up horny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to all of you. It's so lovely to see how excited you are for this fic, it warms my writer's heart! <3
> 
> The lovely Irazor worked her beta-magic on this, thank you babe. <3
> 
> Enjoy. xD

Isak spends the next couple of weeks pretending everything is fine. That he hasn’t come in his pants  _ twice _ with his best friend, who he absolutely doesn’t have a crush the size of Europe on, and that they’re fine. They’re  _ fine _ . Friends can absolutely do those things with each other without it having to mean anything.

Except.

Isak is finding it a little bit difficult looking Even in the eye nowadays. He’s afraid that Even can see it on him, see how much he wants to have him close, how much he liked kissing him, liked touching him.

How much he wants to do it again.

But they haven’t talked about it,  _ at all _ , and it’s like this big pink elephant in the room that they both see and both know is there, but apparently only Isak worries about.

Even seems fine. Where Isak is faking it, pretending in order to keep hanging around Even, Even seems to genuinely be okay with it.

Isak doesn’t catch any lingering gazes or glances at his ass or his dick. And of course he’s happy about that, he doesn’t want his best friend to suffer the same way he’s suffering. He’s just…. Okay, maybe he’s not  _ happy _ about it, maybe that’s not the right word. Maybe he would’ve liked a sign of some kind that Even is thinking about him too.

But in a way, Even being okay and fine with ignoring it kind of tells Isak everything he needs to know.

So. Ignoring it, it is. Isak can totally do that.

Which is how Isak finds himself spending Saturday evening in Even’s apartment, because that’s what he would normally do: hang out with Even and a big group of his friends. They’re drinking and having fun. Some of them are playing some sort of game which Even is involved in too, and Isak is sitting a bit away from him with a couple of the other guys, talking about uni.

Isak can’t help but glance at Even once in a while. Even’s laughing and smiling, caught up in whatever they’re doing, using terms from his classes that Isak has no chance of understanding. But that doesn’t matter, not really. Not when Even’s so lively and free.

It’s Isak’s favorite Even. Not necessarily drunk, but when he’s like this, all loose and smiley and so genuinely bone-deep happy, that smile stretching over his face wide and steady. It just makes Isak’s heart beat faster, and makes it hard for him to quell that fond smile that threatens to break out on his own face.

Isak is still nursing his first beer, he doesn’t really want to get drunk tonight, doesn’t trust himself with what he would do or say to Even if he was. Too afraid that Even would push him away.

He’s not sure how much Even’s been drinking – he seems inebriated, but not drunk. Unlike most of the people at the party – when Isak comes back later from a quick trip to his own apartment for more beer he finds a couple of people sleeping on Even’s couch.

He locates Even, hands him one of the beers and takes a look around.

“I swear, I was gone for maybe 10 minutes and it seems the party died out while I was away.”

Even laughs and takes a pull. “Well, people have been going at it all night, so maybe it’s not that weird.”

Isak glances at his phone, surprised to see that it’s already two in the morning.

“Yeah, no wonder. How many are left? Do you want help to throw them out?”

“Nah, let’s give them some time to party out themselves.”

Even turns to him then, looks him up and down and says, “You look nice tonight.”

Isak hates the flush that creeps up on him, colors his cheeks and ears, hates it, because he  _ did _ spend a bit more time trying to find a nice outfit before coming over tonight.

He needs to change the subject, needs to turn this conversation around so his flush can disappear and his heart can calm down again. He clears his throat as his mind works frantically to come up with a change of topic.

“Did you ever talk to Tom about that leaking faucet?”

Even smiles.

“I didn’t have to, you fixed it for me. My talented friend.”

And Isak should feel pleased about it, he should. Except that it kind of feels like he’s just been stabbed, like his lungs are slowly losing all the air in them. He tries to smile back at Even, but he’s not sure how well he manages.

_ Friend _ .

He’s not sure why it hurts so much now, not when he’s heard Even call him that a million times. Except he does know. There are things at stake now that wasn’t there the other times Even called him that.

Now that Isak knows what Even sounds like when he comes.

He takes a sip of his beer, trying to kill that thought before it can settle, before it’s impossible for him to think about anything else but precisely that.

“Maybe if we start cleaning up the mess people will get the idea?” Isak asks, needing to do something else than to stand here under the heavy scrutiny of Even’s eyes.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

It’s almost a relief to be doing something with his hands, to be moving and picking up cans and glasses, to collect them in the kitchen for Even to empty and wash. They’re like a well-oiled machinery, the way they work together, the way Isak moves around Even in the kitchen, and the way they seamlessly take over where the other leaves off. The few people left seem to take the hint, slowly drifting towards the hallway, pulling on jackets and shoes before they leave with a hug for the both of them.

It’s a different kind of torture how much this makes them seem like a couple, standing there in the door together saying goodbye to their friends, and Isak so wishes it was true. That this wasn’t just pretend.

As soon as the last person has left Even yawns, one of those big massive ones that split his face in two and makes Isak yawn too.

“I’ll collect the trash and take it out, you can just go to bed,” Isak offers, knowing that Even will just crash now instead of taking care of the last clean-up, and he walks past the garbage shoot on his way back anyway.

“Okay,” Even yawns again, and he looks so cute and tired that Isak can hardly stand it.

He grabs Isak’s arm and pulls him into a full-body hug, one that makes Isak clench his eyes shut to not just hold on and never let go.

“Goodnight, Isak,” Even whispers, so close to Isak’s ear that he can’t help the small shiver that goes through him.

“Goodnight, Even.”

He watches Even leave the kitchen, lingers there while he still feels the phantom touches of Even’s arms around him. Then he shakes himself out of it and starts collecting the trash.

“Isak?” Even yells from his bedroom. There’s something in his tone of voice that makes Isak frown and go to him. And when he gets there he sees why Even was yelling.

“Somebody had sex in your bed,” he says, and Even nods.

“Somebody had fucking  _ sex _ in my bed. I can’t sleep in it like this!”

The sheets are all messed up, there’s something crusty on the duvet that Isak doesn’t want to investigate further, and if Even didn’t seem so despondent, Isak would probably be laughing. 

“Come sleep in my bed tonight, you can take care of that in the morning,” Isak says, before he realizes what he’s offering Even.

But Even looks so relieved, so happy that Isak suggested it, that Isak can’t regret asking.

“Oh, can I? I can’t sleep in this, and I’m too tired to change the bedding right now.”

“Yeah, and you might want to wash the duvet as well.”

Even’s eyes grow large, like he hadn’t thought of that. “Jesus, no.”

And this time Isak doesn’t hold back his laughter, lets it bubble over and fill the space between them until Even joins him.

“Come on,” he says and pulls Even along with him.

He just can’t think about it too much, can’t think of a half-naked Even lying beside him all night. Warm and real. Next to him. In his bed. No, he just can’t think about it.

Nothing to worry about. He’ll be fine.

\--||--

He’s not fine.

Even lies there next to him in only his briefs, so almost-naked that Isak can’t think of anything else, his mind just repeating how Even looked as he got into Isak’s bed over and over and over again, like a movie set on replay.

And now Even is sleeping, like it’s the easiest thing in the world to do. When in fact it’s not. It’s really not.

Isak’s stiff as a board, his entire body tense and extremely aware of just how much space is between them. Or how little, as it turns out.

Because apparently, Even is a space-hoarder, taking over the bed centimeter by centimeter until he’s pressed against Isak, making it even harder for Isak to fall asleep.

Every place Even is touching him tingles, even though there are two duvets between them.

And Isak lies there, clenches his eyes shut, listens to Even’s breathing and hopes it will calm him down as well so he can sleep.

He’s not sure how long it takes, but eventually, he does manage to doze off.

\--||--

It takes him a long time to surface from sleep. He’s so comfortable and warm, feels so good everywhere, that he fights waking up. He could stay here forever, in this place. He feels cocooned, safe. Like no one outside can touch him here.

He’s hot, but not to the point where he’s sweating, just enough that he wants to burrow into the source of that heat, seek it out even more.

It’s not a conscious decision to do so, but he nuzzles his face into the wall of heat in front of him. And it’s soft and smells good, so he does it again. This time he pushes his entire body closer, chases that sensation of mellow and good and just right.

Until whatever he’s lying against groans, and the rumble can be felt everywhere in Isak’s body.

He opens his eyes with a start.

And sees nothing but skin, just enormous expanses of skin, never-ending, warm, fragrant, sleep-warm skin. It’s not until he pulls his face back and sees the constellation of moles there that he recognizes whose skin it is.

_ Even? _ he thinks, until it hits him like a freight train. The reason why Even is in his bed the knowledge that Even  _ is _ in his bed at all. That Isak’s not just dreaming this up.

And then he realizes just how close they’re lying. One of the duvets has been pushed to the side and somehow they’ve both ended up under the other, Isak playing the big spoon with the entire back of Even plastered against his front.

His morning-hard dick nestled against Even’s crack.

Isak swallows hard.

It’s almost impossible to stay still, not to grind just a little bit, because Isak is right where he wants to be, right where everything is starting to feel really good, but he can’t do that to Even.

Who he’s pretty sure is still sleeping.

But Jesus Christ. 

It’s like his dick is getting harder just knowing how close it is to Even, that it’s lying against Even’s ass, and it jumps at the thought. Isak is mortified (and turned on) by the thought that if Even was awake he would be able to feel it.

He tries to convince his body that he should pull back, that he can’t take advantage of poor Even like this. That he should at least wait until he’s awake before he starts molesting him. And it takes effort, so much effort to pull his hips back, just a little bit, immediately mourning the loss of heat and whatever little friction he got from just lying so close. But before he can pull too far away, he’s stopped.

“Don’t,” Even whispers, a low, rough sound, followed by him reaching around to put a hand on Isak’s ass and push him close again. “You feel good.”

Okay.  _ Okay _ . Isak can handle this, he can definitely handle this. This just means that he doesn’t have to hold back, that Even wants it too, which is good. It’s perfect, even.

Except Isak is already so on edge, his balls pulling up tight with just the idea of moving closer to Even again. But he still lets Even pull him closer until he’s lying back where he started, dick nestled perfectly between Even’s ass cheeks.

He fights the moan that threatens to spill out of him, but he can’t fight the small grind of his hips as he seeks out the heat hidden underneath Even’s briefs.

Isak just wants to pull them down, wants to push Even over to his stomach and spread that ass for him to see. For him to see  _ everything _ .

But he’s pretty sure that’s not what Even meant by  _ don’t _ .

So he gives another grind, this one a bit harder, a bit dirtier, and it punches a sound out of Even that goes straight to Isak’s dick and makes something tighten inside his stomach.

“Yeah,” Even whispers. And then, “More.”

And who is Isak to deny Even when he asks so nicely?

So he tries a little thrust, just a tiny one, just to see what it feels like.

And it’s good, it’s so good, it’s perfect.

He makes a sound, a high-pitched throaty groan that makes Even moan and arch his back, pushing his ass further back onto Isak’s dick.

Jesus. It’s like he died and went to heaven.

“Touch me,” Even says, tightens his grip on Isak’s hip until Isak can hardly breathe from it and he has to hide his face in Even’s shoulder, breathing wetly against the skin there, desperately wanting to taste it.

He starts grinding for real, a continuous roll of his hips against Even that makes them both pant in seconds. And then he slowly slides his hand over Even’s hip, down his stomach, scratching at the coarse hair there, and further down, until he reaches the elastic of Even’s briefs.

He pauses here. It’s like he’s crossing some sort of line if he moves on from this, if he actually touches Even  _ there _ . He hasn’t so far, has just looked at the bulge through Even’s briefs and his pants, has felt it clothed against his own. But he’s never touched it, even though he’s dreamed about it plenty of times.

Before he can make a conscious decision to move on, Even’s hips shudder, and the movement pushes the wet tip of Even’s dick against his hand.

And Isak cannot be held responsible when it’s right there. When it’s so obvious that Even wants him to. So he slides his hands down under the elastic, the wet tip smearing a trail on Isak’s hand as he continues.

Even has a lot of hair here, coarse and curly, and it sends a bolt of heat through Isak. And then his fingertips skim the softest skin over delicious hardness, making him whimper against Even’s nape.

Even sighs when Isak finally wraps his hand around his dick. It sounds like relief, excitement,  _ pleasure _ , and Isak wants to coax more sounds like that out of Even, wants more of  _ everything _ , so he adds a bit of pressure as he starts to move his hand.

Even immediately turns his head, purses his lips, and moves his hand from Isak’s hip to his hair instead. And then he uses that grip to turn Isak’s face until he can reach him with his lips into something resembling a kiss.

Isak tries to kiss him back, but he’s so overwhelmed by everything going on; how good grinding against Even’s ass feels, how perfectly Even’s dick fits in his hand, how toe-curlingly talented Even’s tongue is. The sounds Even pushes into his mouth.

He knows that he’s making another mess of his briefs, he’s leaking precum everywhere, like he always seems to do when he’s with Even like this, and Jesus, he can’t believe that they’ve done this enough times now to set a precedence.

His dick is pulsing against Even’s ass, thrusts perfectly timed with Even’s movement and it’s like they’re moving together, like a unit, like this is something they’ve done a million times before and will do a million times more.

He picks up speed, thrusts faster, thrusts harder, moves his hand on Even’s dick faster, and Even stops kissing him, mouth going slack and his neck easing until he’s resting against the pillow once more, just panting and moaning and sounding like temptation personified.

Isak tries not to be loud, tries not to overshadow the sounds Even makes, because he wants to hear every single last one of them. But it’s so hard, close to impossible, when everything feels so good, when every movement sends tendrils of pleasure throughout his entire body, making him shiver, making him sweat and flush, making his skin break out with goosebumps. He wants more, he wants closer.

He wants to see Even.

But before he can really think that thought through Even whines and groans, breaths turning staccato and then he’s coming all over Isak’s hand and the inside of his briefs. It’s so hot to be this close, to feel every convulsion running through Even’s body, to stroke him through it and coax more and more cum out of him.

Until Even collapses against the mattress, back against Isak, breathing hard, and he’s sweaty and more perfect in Isak’s arms than he’s ever been.

So Isak starts chasing his own orgasm, pays less attention to what Even’s doing and the sounds he’s making. But the sound of Even coming echoes through his brain as he thrusts a few more times, until he’s falling over the edge too.

This orgasm is a slow one; it starts in his dick and balls, sending molten lava through his veins, heating him up from within as he spills and spills, grinding against Even, wishing desperately that he was inside him instead. That he’d be leaving a mess behind inside him instead of inside his briefs.

He clings to Even, arm tight around him, and he doesn’t let go even when he stops coming, not even when he should.

He lies there, breathing heavily against Even, nose tickled by the short hair on Even’s nape. And then he does what he’s been wanting to do ever since he woke up: he opens his mouth, slides his lips over the wet, salty skin of Even’s shoulder and tastes him.

Even shivers, a kind of reaction that doesn’t make Isak want to stop. It really just makes him want to continue. But he’s not sure where the line is anymore, if he’s allowed to do this. 

He opens his eyes, finds Even’s face slightly turned, just enough that he can see his lashes over the bridge of his cheekbone. He watches him blink once, then twice, but he doesn’t say anything. Keeps quiet and doesn’t move.

So Isak slides his lips over his skin again, and this time he even nuzzles his nose into Even’s hair, breathes him in, that scent that’s all Even and sleep and sex.

It’s a heady mixture, something so heavy with meaning that Isak can almost taste it on his tongue.

But he has to stop, has to give himself the reprieve if he’s ever going to be able to let Even go, to let him get out of this bed again. Without Isak.

Because he knows that Even will. Knows that this still doesn’t mean the same to him as it does to Isak. Not with how many times he’s repeated the word “friend” to Isak, made it clear that this is nothing more. That this, whatever they’re doing, is never going to be more.

So Isak somehow manages to pull away from Even, manages to roll away from the heat and the closeness, and then onto his back, until he’s staring at the ceiling.

He feels Even shift on the bed, turn over until he’s facing Isak, but Isak keeps his eyes on the ceiling. He can’t look at Even, can’t watch that beautiful face as he makes another excuse that’s starting to feel like nothing but pain and hurt to Isak.

“I can feel you thinking from over here, Isak. You think too much,” Even says with a smile in his voice and Isak’s heart sink with how he just knows that Even’s going to belittle this, make it seem like less. “Don’t regret this.”

Isak turns his head, slides his eyes over Even’s face, trying to figure out why he would say that. “I don’t regret it.” 

And it’s the truth, he doesn’t. He’s happy to have Even, in any shape or form.

Even smiles, shrugs, and Isak braces himself for what he suspects what will come next. “We were just horny, right? Friends can sleep together platonically and wake up horny together, right?”

Isak doesn’t know how he manages to answer, except that it somehow slides over his tongue, passes his lips until he hears himself say it. 

“Right.”

Saying that word has never felt more like defeat.

It’s not until later, after Even has gone and Isak has showered and he’s staring at the mess that his bed is, that he wonders.

What happened to Even’s crush? Did he get over them? Is Isak just a rebound? Or has Even just suddenly decided that he can do casual sex? With Isak?

So many questions. But for once, Isak doesn’t want to ask Even any of them. For once, Isak just stays in his apartment and tries to forget about all those questions popping up in his head.

At least now he can pretend that this is enough. That he’s not hurting either of them doing this. Except... that doesn’t really feel true anymore either.

One more thing to add to the growing list of things to ignore.

If only it worked like that.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up Monday! And don't forget about the Friday-teaser on my tumblr. ;)


	4. You said you don’t like ____ but I bet the people you were with just don’t know how to do it. I, however, have experience and bet I could make you like it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, here's the new chapter! I hope you guys are excited about it. :) (you're probably curious what the _______ is in the title, right? xD)
> 
> The ever-lovely Irazor betaed this, thank you, babe. <3 
> 
> Enjoy, my friends!

The next morning there’s a knock on Isak’s door, just like normal. Even is standing on the other side, looking sheepish, just like normal.

He says, “Do you have any coffee? I forgot to buy.”

Just like normal.

It’s so normal that Isak almost manages to convince himself that they’re fine, that nothing has changed, nothing is weird between them.

Almost.

Because, a few days later, when Isak finally works up the courage to ask Even one of those questions that’s been getting bigger and bigger in his head, all nonchalant and like it doesn’t really matter, it’s weird.

“Are you still crushing on that person?” he asks.

Isak is anything but non-caring about the answer – he desperately wants to know what happened to them. Wants to know more about them, even though Even has been extremely tight-lipped about who it is.

Even stops what he’s doing – which is putting away the groceries they were just shopping for, including three bags of coffee so he won’t run out anytime soon – and turns his head to look at Isak.

“What person?”

Isak can’t stand still, can’t just stand here and look Even in the eye while he asks him these things, afraid of what Even just might see if he does. So he takes a step towards the counter and starts unpacking one of the other grocery bags.

“A while ago you were talking about this person that you liked, and you didn’t want to tell me who it was, but you were all gooey-eyed over them?”

Isak tries to smile, but it doesn’t feel right on his face. And when he glances at Even, he’s looking away.

“Oh yeah, that.” Even takes a deep breath and puts the pasta onto the shelf where it belongs, and then pauses before he adds, “It’s different now.”

Isak manages to put away a couple of cans of chickpeas and a packet of crispbread before he realizes that Even isn’t continuing.

But he needs to know now, needs to know how alone he is in feeling like this.

“Different how?”

Even still isn’t looking at Isak, just puts both hands on the counter and leans in with his head hanging. He looks like he’s giving up, so defeated that Isak wants to say that it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t care.

The silence stretches between them until Isak doesn’t have any more groceries to unpack and just as he’s about to start fiddling, Even whispers, “You know how.”

It’s like a shock to his system, everything in him comes alive, the blood pulsing in his veins until it’s like he can’t breathe fast enough.

He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to answer, because he’s not sure what Even is even admitting. But before he works up the courage to ask just what Even means, Even is on his way out of the kitchen, talking about an assignment he has to do for uni.

Isak isn’t stupid, he knows when he’s not wanted, so he reluctantly leaves. 

But at least it’s something. Some kind of acknowledgment, a small part of what Isak’s been waiting for.

If nothing else, he’ll have that.

And for now, maybe that’s enough. It has to be.

\--||--

It’s been a night of new-s. Not firsts, but new-s. He’s learned so many things about Even tonight, and all because of a stupid drinking game.

Isak’s head is reeling.

They’re walking home from the party, both still a bit high and drunk, but not enough that they’re falling over. Just enough to make them more open and more free with their touches.

And boy, has there been touches.

Even has had some part of his body against Isak almost constantly. A hand clapping him on the shoulder or resting on his waist, a foot touching his under the table, a knee against his leg. Something. Constantly.

So maybe Isak is drunk on more than just alcohol and weed right now.

And then there had been that game, the “never-have-I-ever”-game and there had been so many of them playing and the questions that were asked… well. It’s safe to say that Isak knows a whole lot more about Even’s sexlife and level of experience that he did before.

When they reach their ledge, Even nods towards his apartment and says, “Come in for a beer.”

His eyes are so bright, and he has that half-smile on his face that makes Isak’s toes tingle and his stomach bubble with unspoken promise, so he smiles back and nods.

Maybe Isak suspects that there’s more than just beer to that invitation. He definitely hopes so. No way he’s going to say no to that, not now.

Moments later they’re both sitting on the couch, both with one leg up, so they’re facing each other.

Even’s cheeks are a bit red, but it could just be from the alcohol, Isak doesn’t know. But... it could be from something else as well. Especially with the way Even’s eyes stay on Isak the whole time. The silence between them isn’t awkward, it’s full of tension and words waiting to be said, and it feels like they’re on the precipice of something that Isak can’t quite name or understand.

This just feels different from all the other times Isak has sat here on this couch after a party.

“Sooo,” Even starts and Isak hangs on his every word, excited to hear how Even is going to play this. “You have a favorite sextoy?”

And Isak almost chokes on his beer, making Even laugh.

Which is always good. Isak just wishes he wouldn’t flush quite this much. It’s just different admitting it here, now, with just the two of them. Instead of in the big group where he might have been able to feel Even’s eyes burning a hole in his profile, but where he could pretend he wasn’t admitting it to tease Even. And to see what kind of reaction he could coax out of him.

Something along the lines of this reaction, apparently.

“Well, yeah. Don’t we all?” Isak says, trying to sound more brave than he feels.

Even laughs and shrugs. “I like dicks, but I don’t know about the other stuff.”

Isak can’t help it, he leans in, moves closer, and he’s too curious not to ask. “Other stuff?”

“Yeah, you know. Like toys and… stuff.”

Isak huffs, “What other stuff? You’ve got to tell me now, I’m all curious.”

Even squirms a bit and flushes prettily. Isak licks his lips and makes a very conscious decision to stay seated and where he is instead of jumping Even.

“You know….”  Even sighs and rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling, so Isak doesn’t feel too bad about pushing him on this. “You know, like fingers. There. I said it.”

Isak frowns. That definitely wasn’t what he expected Even to say.

“You don’t like fingers?” 

Even shrugs. Looks at his bottle. And Isak needs to clarify. “You don’t like to be fingered?”

“You say that like it’s weird.”

“Well,” Isak says, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a queer man say that before.”

“No?” Even asks, eyes boring into Isak’s. “It just...  feels weird. Not bad, but not good either.”

“That must be because the dudes you’ve been with haven’t had a clue about what they were doing.”

Even laughs, says, “And you do?” while he moves a bit closer to Isak. Not a lot, so little that it would be easy to miss if Isak wasn’t paying attention. 

But he very much is. And it makes it easier for him to be brave.

“Yeah.” Isak is full of confidence because he does. He likes it, watching his partner fall apart on his fingers, on his tongue, on his dick. Any way he can impart pleasure, he’s all for it. “I’m really good at it, if I say so myself.”

Even’s eyes turn hooded, the smile fading on his face, turning into a different sort of grimace. The kind that makes Isak’s dick twitch in his pants and makes his entire body take notice.

“Show me,” Even whispers.

“Yeah, okay,” Isak whispers back, voice rough and already wrecked, blood pulsing in his veins and in his dick. Yeah.

\--||--

Even naked is a revelation.

He’s spread out before Isak, lying there on the bed, all long lean muscles and pale skin, more beautiful than Isak even dreamed of.

His legs are spread around Isak, hips resting on a pillow giving Isak the perfect view of everything Even has to offer. And Isak means  _ everything _ .

Even is looking at him, is watching him opening the lube, pouring it over his fingers, rubbing it between his fingers to spread it and make it warm. Isak throws the tube on the bed and puts his free hand on Even’s soft inner thigh, the skin there so smooth, with only a scar that looks like a chicken pox scar from when he was a kid. Isak wants to kiss it, wants to taste it, wants to run his nose over it until he can bury his head in the hair at the base of Even’s dick. Which, Isak notices, has been trimmed since he had his hands down Even’s briefs that morning not too long ago.

It sends a pang of excitement down his spine, and he wishes that Even did that to prepare for him. That he’s thought about how he presents himself to Isak. And it makes it even harder for Isak not to lean in and breathe him in, lick along the veins of Even’s dick, taste the bitterness of his precum pearling at the tip.

Jesus. Even is so gorgeous, the way he just lies there waiting for Isak, offering himself up. It makes Isak’s heart swell and work overtime, makes him feel overcome with how much he wants this, all the time and forever. But before he can lose himself in his head, Even interrupts him.

“Are you going to finger me or are you just going to stare at me?”

“Shush,” Isak reprimands smilingly. He almost continues with  _ you look good like this, let me enjoy it _ , but manages to keep the words in. 

Even doesn’t say anything back, but the flush on his cheeks start descending, down his chest, all the way to his nipples. And it settles Isak, makes him feel in control of the situation again.

He shifts between Even’s legs until he’s in the perfect position; on his knees, leaning over Even with his hand planted next to Even’s chest on the bed. And then he starts.

Even startles when Isak puts his fingers on his rim, enough for Isak to hesitate but Even just licks his lips and says, “’s just cold, come on.”

So Isak continues.

He starts out slow, just rubbing along the crack, over Even’s taint, over the rim, up and down until he feels Even relax slightly against him. And then he starts focusing on the rim with large circles that gradually gets smaller and smaller with each pass. And all the while, he has his eyes glued to Even’s face, watching his every reaction. Hoping to learn what feels good and what doesn’t.

It looks like what he’s doing so far is already having an effect. Even is biting his lip, eyes half-lidded, and he’s so goddamn beautiful that Isak almost can’t stand looking at him anymore. But his eyes don’t stray.

He’s down to basically just rubbing over Even’s rim now, feeling it twitching under his fingers, opening and closing, and he’s starting to sweat with how much he just wants to push in and feel how warm Even is on the inside.

To breach Even, in any way or form, is more than he ever dared hope for. And here he is, with Even’s gaze heavy on him. They’re so close, bodies touching more places than one, and every single one makes his skin tingle. He can’t help but spread his legs a bit so that more of his skin touches Even – and somehow all that contact between them almost feels more intimate than the fingers he has on Even’s hole.

“Okay?” he asks, although he’s pretty sure Even’s okay. He just needs to make sure.

“Mm-hmm,” Even nods, licks his lips and looks down between his legs for a hot second before his gaze is back on Isak. “This is good.”

“Okay,” Isak says.

He puts a hand on Even’s leg and then finally pushes a finger inside, slowly, deliberately, goes as far as the second knuckle and smiles when Even’s leg twitches under his hand. 

Even feels perfect inside. All smooth and warm and tight, and as Isak pulls out and pushes in again, Even’s already starting to relax. 

Jesus. The way Even’s body just molds around his finger, makes room for him. Isak can’t help but wonder what it would be like to push other parts of himself inside Even, how perfect Even would feel, how Isak would fit inside of him.

He’s not sure exactly how much experience Even’s got. Apparently enough for him to know he likes to be fucked but not enough for him to have found a partner to finger him right.

Well. 

Isak’s going to show him, he’s going to make Even love it.

He pushes the second finger in and Even sighs, this good, warm sound that makes Isak’s spine tingle and his dick fatten.

Isak pulls out slowly, completely, pushes back in, and when Even doesn’t object, but actually rather looks like he enjoys it, Isak does it again.  This time, Even spreads his legs more and tilts his hips, and just like that it’s so much easier for Isak to move his hand.

He takes advantage of it, moves inside Even, thrusting with his fingers, touching along the walls, makes sure that his thumb rubs the sensitive rim so that Even will feel him everywhere. 

Even isn’t quite as unresponsive as Isak imagined, not with what he told him. Isak kind of imagined that he was going to have to work hard for it, imagined that Even would just lie there, barely moving or moaning.

But that’s not what’s happening at all. Like at  _ all _ . Even is squirming, making these small noises that Isak loves, that makes Isak want more, and he looks delectable. He’s flushed all the way to his navel now, sweating, hair starting to stick to his forehead, eyes glassy and blown, and fucking  _ hell _ . Isak is so hard in his pants it’s almost painful. His dick is pulsing against his briefs, and he wants to squeeze it, wants to pull it out and wrap his hand around it, make himself come while looking at Even like that, spread out for him to see.

Cover Even in his cum.

No, he has to pull back a bit. Even is just his friend, he can’t go around wanting to cover him in cum, that’s not something you want to do to a friend.

So Isak tries to ignore the throbbing ache between his legs, to focus on Even instead.

He twists his hand, keeps thrusting into Even, but now he searches for that spot he knows will make Even feel even better.

There’s no question when Isak finds it.

It’s swollen under the pads of his fingers and Even’s eyes go wide. He lifts his head and looks at Isak with big, wondering eyes, mouth open in a perfect O, and Isak can’t help it. He leans down and kisses Even. He needs to taste that pleasurable surprise on his lips, needs to know if it tastes makes Even taste different.

He keeps rubbing that spot as he puts his lips on Even’s, and Even is barely responsive. He’s panting into Isak’s mouth, makes this high-pitched sound in his throat that makes Isak sweat as well, and his hands move from the bed to his hair to Isak’s upper arms. His grip is tight and strong, and his nails would be digging in if it wasn’t for Isak’s t-shirt, but it’s good. It’s perfect.

Isak leans up to stare at him, his eyes taking everything in. Committing this moment to memory the best he can, because he knows that it doesn’t matter that Even is a friend, he’s going to wank to this memory over and over again for the next foreseeable future.

Even looks like sin incarnated, like something to lure men into doing things they shouldn’t.

Even’s lips are all puffy now, red, lickable, so Isak leans in and kisses him again. He pushes his tongue into his mouth and enjoys how one of Even’s hands slides up his arm and grabs onto his neck instead and keeps him close. Holds him there so he can’t move away.

Like Isak would actually move away from Even at this moment.

Not a chance in hell. Not when he’s obviously making Even feel so much, making him feel good, and Even is clearly doing his best to show Isak just how much he’s enjoying himself.

Isak goes for the kill, starts jabbing Even’s prostate full on, does that thing with the tip of his fingers that he knows feels amazing, and Even moans and sighs against his mouth, chest rising and falling rapidly. His grip on Isak grows stronger and more insistent and it’s all Isak can do to hold back and not just come in his pants.

Even finally releases him a bit and Isak uses the small reprieve to look down, to see Even’s dick lying against his stomach, pulsing with every thrust, a steady string of precum connecting the tip to his stomach and Isak wants to lick it, wants to taste it.

So he does: squirms out of the hard grip Even has on his neck, and as soon as he’s within reach, he wraps his lips around Even’s beautiful, perfect dick, and sucks. His mouth explodes with the tangy taste of precum, his mouth waters even more, and he moans. He has to get it further in his mouth, he wants to feel it  _ stretch  _ him. He takes it in as far as he can, more and more and more until it meets his throat, and then he pulls off to catch his breath and does it all over again.

Even is shaking under him now, a hand finds its way into Isak’s hair, nails scratching against his scalp, causing a live current to run between those nails and Isak’s dick.

Jesus, it’s getting harder and harder to ignore his dick, he’s almost desperate for some friction now. He’d probably settle for rubbing against Even’s leg until he comes, but he can’t be bothered with shifting his body. Not now that he has such a perfect angle for working Even’s hole, now that he has a good rhythm going with Even’s dick. And Even is close, there’s no doubt about it, the sounds he’s making, how his legs are squirming, how his toes are moving against Isak’s legs. How the grip in his hair tightens, bordering on too painful, although that somehow just adds to it, pushes Isak closer as well.

Even says, “Isak! Isak!” so Isak pulls off, shuffles up on his knees to get his hand free and puts it around Even’s dick and strokes it fast, the slide eased by his spit. Even comes, fast and hard, eyes scrunched, mouth open in a soundless scream, every muscle in his body tight as his dick spills and spills, over his stomach and over Isak. Isak keeps working him through it, keeps his hands moving inside and out, until Even convulses one last time and collapses back against the bed.

And that’s Isak’s cue. He pulls his dick out, strips it as fast as he can, eyes locked on the mess on Even’s stomach, on his still half-hard dick, on the skin of his thighs and his open legs.

It would be so easy to stick it in, Even is open and wet and  _ ready _ , and it would be so easy. Isak can’t help imagine how he would look after a good fucking, maybe like this, maybe even more flushed, even more spent.

He would look so good with Isak’s cum leaking out of his hole.

And it’s with that image in mind that Isak comes, orgasm pulled from him, filling him and scrambling any coherent thought from his mind.

He just works his dick, lets the pleasure overtake him, doesn’t worry about what sounds he’s making or what he looks like during. If Even can give himself over to him like that, so freely, Isak certainly can do the same back.

When the last rope of cum is spilled the hand on his dick slows until it’s just working the tip. Those small shivers run through him, that feel so good but are just on the verge of too much.

He opens his eyes, looks down at Even, who’s drenched in Isak’s cum. He’s somehow managed to cover Even’s dick and balls and stomach in white and he can’t be held accountable for how that sight makes his stomach churn and his chest tighten.

He shouldn’t like it so much. He shouldn’t. He feels kind of guilty about it because he… well, more than likes it.

Even looks so good covered in him.

Isak glances up at Even, who’s looking back with a soft, pleased look on his face, so open and trusting that Isak has to look away and down at the mess again. He slides a finger through it, mixes their cum together and then puts it in his mouth to taste.

The taste of them mixed explodes on his tongue, fires all the synapses in his brain at once, and he moans around his finger and closes his eyes in pleasure.

Best thing he’s ever tasted.

He’s pulled from his reverie by Even, who croaks out a “Jesus, Isak!”

Isak opens his eyes and looks straight at him, finger still in his mouth, cheeks hollow from sucking, and he can’t deny how watching Even’s eyes linger at his mouth affects him.

It makes him want to do it all over again.

Over and over and over again, actually. And he knows that he shouldn’t want that, he really shouldn’t. He should stop it now, should tell Even that they can’t do this again, before it starts to mean something more than sex to him (no, it absolutely hasn’t started to feel like more yet).

He should.

Instead, he leans in and kisses Even again, lets him taste them together too, and ignores that nagging feeling in the back of his head that he’s going to get hurt if he doesn’t stop.

It’s easy to ignore with Even’s lips and tongue against his, and with their combined taste in his mouth.

He just has to stop thinking about it.

Yeah. Easy peasy.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, the next chapter will be up in a week. And the title for the next chapter will be posted on Friday on my blog. Hope to see you there! :D


	5. This started as a tickle fight and it isn’t tickling anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is also inspired by two other prompts, I'll give you a chance and see if you can guess them. ;) (they're revealed in the end notes)
> 
> The always lovely Irazor betaed this for me, thank you babe! <3
> 
> Other than that, I hope you enjoy the last of the accidental sex-chapters. :D

It’s not like Isak’s ignoring Even. No. Absolutely not, he’s just… checking the spyhole before he leaves, listening for Even’s footsteps to make sure-- Okay, he’s avoiding him.

The thing is, Isak isn’t sure what he’s supposed to think about what has happened between them.

Like. It just kind of seems to keep happening? And they haven’t talked about it at all, and Isak almost can’t breathe from hotness when he thinks about it. Maybe the real problem is that he’s not just thinking about  _ that  _ anymore.

Suddenly, all these other details about Even are invading his brain, making him all soft and gooey inside.

He has to stop.

But then he’s putting on his shoes and he remembers how Even always puts his left shoe on first, and Isak’s never asked why and suddenly he needs to know the answer to that puzzle.

Or he’s eating dinner, some pasta dish that’s easy and cheap, and then he realizes that he’s made a double portion because he always shares his pasta with Even. Even loves pasta.

He watches something funny on television and his first thought is to snap it and send it to Even because he knows that Even would find it funny too. Would probably come over and watch the rest of it with him.

And after a couple of days of this, Isak knows that he’s fucked.

Truly and utterly  _ fucked _ .

He’s already in way over his head, already way past “take care of yourself or you’re going to get hurt”. He’s so far past this point that there’s no going back now. He knows he has to say something to Even, has to tell him so they can stop or maybe, hopefully, become something more.

But. Even’s crush. He never said he was over them. Only that it’s different now.

And also, what if Even doesn’t want Isak in that way? What if he’s perfectly content with just being good friends that have sex? What if Isak makes it awkward and weird between them by saying something?

Honestly, Isak doesn’t really know what to do or how to say these things to Even.

So. Avoiding it, and him, it is.

\--||--

It works for exactly two more days.

Then Even is knocking on Isak’s door. And when Isak ignores him and doesn’t answer, Even just keeps knocking, louder and louder with each passing second, yelling “I know you’re in there, Isak”, until Isak has no choice but to open the door.

Isak opens just as Even’s about to knock again, so his hand is fisted and up high and he looks so surprised that his knock-attack actually worked.

“You’re home,” he says. He sounds a bit nervous, but Isak doesn’t know if that’s just him projecting.

Isak’s definitely nervous.

He says, “Don’t act surprised, you said you knew I was home.”

Even swallows, Isak’s eyes following every jump of his adam’s apple hungrily and he wants to roll his eyes at himself with how obvious he is.

“Yes. Well. Obviously.”

They stand there, Isak holding the door, Even standing right outside, with no shoes on, in just a t-shirt. Clearly, he didn’t mean to be standing in the hallway for too long, but Isak doesn’t say or do anything. He just looks at this spot above Even’s shoulder, like an idiot, and doesn’t ask Even inside. Like an idiot.

Until finally Even seems to have had enough.

“Are you going to be this weird from now on?”

It almost startles Isak that Even just cuts to the chase like that. He’s rarely this direct, and it makes Isak look into his eyes. But like the idiot he is he still doesn’t invite him in. Instead, he just shrugs.  _ Shrugs _ !

Isak is horrified with himself.

Even rolls his eyes, but he’s starting to smile and tilts his head, like he does when he thinks Isak is being cute. And Isak just doesn’t get how Even can find him cute right now, when he’s clearly anything but.

But his heart calms a bit from seeing that smile.

“Isak…” Even starts. He pauses for a while, looks intensely at Isak, and Isak just stands there and lets him, until he suddenly starts talking again. “Okay, this is weird, let’s not do the sex-thing anymore if we’re going to be this weird about it, okay?”

Isak clears his throat, says “Yeah, okay,” like the  _ moron  _ he is, because as soon as the words are over his lips he knows he won’t be able to just  _ stop _ .

But Even seems satisfied, smiles at him and nods. Puts his hand on Isak’s shoulder and shakes him a bit. “Good, let’s go to mine and you can have some of the popcorn I just made. And then we’re watching a movie.”

He turns around and disappears inside his apartment, leaving the door open, and leaving Isak standing there looking after him.

He inhales, exhales, blinks a few times. And then he reaches inside to grab his keys and shuts the door after him on his way to Even’s apartment.

Okay.

He’s going to be fine, this is  _ fine _ . It’s only watching a movie with Even, he’s done this a thousand times, why should this be any different?

\--||--

He’s not fine.

Everything Even does feels loaded.

From how he sits on the couch next to Isak, all long-limbed and stretched out and warm and pretty, so that Isak can hardly focus on the screen. To how he eats his popcorn, big fists full of them that he crams into his mouth, making his lips all shiny with oil while some drop to his chest and stomach, and Isak can’t breathe when Even just picks them up and puts them in his mouth.

Like it’s nothing, like Isak hasn’t been noticing those popcorns and wishing he had the courage to just lean in and eat them straight off Even’s body instead.

To how his long fingers are playing against his thigh, touching his phone, the remote.

Isak’s not sure he’s ever really looked this much at anybody’s fingers before. But he certainly is now, apparently, now he can hardly get himself to look away.

It’s horrible, a perfect kind of torture. Like, objectively Isak knows that these things shouldn’t be hot, probably isn’t hot to anybody but Isak. But. They just... are. There’s no denying it, all these things put together make Isak sit there, next to Even on the couch, with an uncomfortable boner that he doesn’t quite know what to do with.

He’s turned in the most awkward angle sideways from Even, trying to hide it because he’d probably die of shame if he had to explain to Even that watching him messily eat popcorn is making him hard.

But Even doesn’t seem to notice, because he keeps bumping into Isak, keeps nudging him with his shoulder when there’s a funny moment. Keeps leaning into him to point something out that Isak misses completely because whenever Even does, his breath washes over Isak’s neck and ear. And apparently, he’s really sensitive there because he breaks out in goosebumps whenever it happens.

Halfway through the movie, it’s like Isak’s brain has shut down, like it’s only running on basic capacity, just enough to keep him breathing and sitting upright.

Every sense in his body is homed in on Even. He registers every small movement, knows exactly what he’s doing and how he’s doing it, and he still hasn’t got a clue what movie they’re even watching.

He has to get out, has to do something else.

Has to  _ be _ somewhere else. Somewhere Even isn’t.

Abruptly, he stands up before he’s even thought about it and Even looks up at him in surprise.

“Ehm…” Isak starts, looks at the screen like it could tell him what to do, and then he continues without having any idea what’s about to come out of his mouth. “I just forgot that I have laundry time now.”

Even’s eyebrows almost meet his hairline, he makes a show of glancing at his watch, says, “At 23 o’clock?” in a high voice, like he can’t believe what Isak just said.

Isak can’t believe it either, but now it’s out there, so he soldiers on.

“Yeah, it was the only available time and I don’t have any clean pants left.”

He’s blushing because it’s so stupid. He just desperately hopes Even doesn’t notice the rising heat on his cheeks.

“Okay…” Even says, draws it out, takes forever to let go of the y, and then he shrugs and leans back in the couch. “I’ll just finish this alone.”

And Isak almost runs out of the apartment, he doesn’t need to see Even eat any more popcorn. No siree bob, it’s kinda the last thing he needs to see.

Except that in order to make the lie believable he now has to go do a load of laundry. At 23 o’clock. On a Tuesday. As he empties his laundry basket to sort his clothes he just hopes that there really is a free time.

_ There goes my regular night’s sleep _ , he thinks as he leaves the apartment loaded with laundry and definitely doesn’t eye his bed.

At least he’s getting clean clothes out of it.

\--||--

A couple of days later, Even is leaning against the counter next to Isak as he’s chopping vegetables for their dinner.

Isak is still trying to figure out what “normal” is nowadays. How to act around Even and not to get turned on by everything he does. Like, how Even is just standing there, all long and lean, and Isak tries not to let his eyes linger at Even’s hand spread out on the counter, those long fingers stretched impossibly far taking up way too much room. Isak can’t look at that – he’s using a knife, he might end up cutting himself.

But he just doesn’t know how to stop.

“Do you have some tomatoes as well?” Even asks, and he’s infuriatingly calm and collected, the exact opposite of how Isak feels, but he tries not to let it show.

He’s probably not very effective at it at all, he’s always had a hard time hiding his emotions. Especially when it comes to Even.

He nods towards the bowl on the counter in front of him holding a couple of tomatoes that he still hasn’t managed to eat, and Even breaks out in a smile.

“Whoa, I can’t believe you actually have some! That a couple of tomatoes have survived your ferocious appetite!”

He’s teasing, moving closer and closer to Isak and Isak smiles back and rolls his eyes.

“Shut up, you know I love tomatoes.”

And then he stops, freezes everything he’s doing because Even moves behind him, puts his hands on either side of Isak on the counter and leans in until his mouth is right next to Isak’s ear.

“I know.”

Isak shivers,  _ shivers _ . Even is standing so close, the heat of him bleeding through Isak’s clothes even though he’s not really touching Isak.

But he might as well be, with how Isak’s body’s reacting to him being this near.

Even leans forward until his entire body is plastered against Isak’s, hips tight against Isak, chin over his shoulder, chest against his back and Isak can’t breathe, can’t function as Even reaches out and picks up the tomatoes.

Oh yeah. The tomatoes.

If Isak didn’t know better, he’d almost think Even’s doing it on purpose, like he’s touching Isak as much as possible, but Isak can’t understand why. It was his suggestion to stop after all, so Isak must just be imagining it all.

Right?

It’s not until Even takes a step away from Isak that he can breathe again, that the blood starts flowing through his body instead of focusing on his dick. Isak stands there for a few long seconds, just breathing and trying to shake the want that’s threatening to overtake him, before he can go back to cutting the cucumber in front of him.

He can’t meet Even’s eyes afterward, can’t even look in his direction.

Even made it sound so easy for them to just stop whatever is going on between them. Except. Isak’s not sure he’s able to do it.

He’s not sure he knows how to turn off feeling and wanting.

But he’d better learn. If he wants to keep Even.

\--||--

Isak looks into his closet and sighs. He feels like he’s worn everything too many times, but he might want to impress someone at this party, so he wants to look his best.

Who’s he kidding. He wants to make Even drool over him for once, and not the other way around.

He’s eyeing the grey shirt. Knows that Even loves him in it, but he’s afraid it might be too obvious if he wears it. What if Even takes one look at him and just  _ knows _ that Isak’s wearing it for his sake?

He wants to impress, but he wants to be subtle about it.

His phone dings and he’s still not any closer to making a decision, but he grabs it anyway only to find it’s Even.

_ Come over here, I’m having a crisis. _

Isak rolls his eyes, just for good measure, pulls the grey shirt from the hanger, still buttoning it as he leaves his apartment.

Even is a whirlwind once he gets there. There are clothes everywhere and he’s pulling a t-shirt off over his head as Isak enters.

“Good, you’re here. I can’t decide,” he says, throws the t-shirt over in a corner and picks up two shirts from the chair next to his closet. He holds the first one up, says, “This one?” and then he switches to the other, “or this one?”

Well.

Even is standing there half naked and expects Isak to be able to make a decision for him?

Isak sits down on Even’s bed and clears his throat, tries his very best to put his attention onto the shirts Even’s holding instead of the expanse of naked skin that’s available to his eyes. He doesn’t have a clue, Even would probably look good in both, but he knows that Even won’t have that answer.

“Show me again?” he says and Even does, readily.

Isak really doesn’t have an opinion. But he makes sure he seems to be gauging whether Even looks better in the red one of the black one with the print.

Even’s looking at him, eyebrows halfway to his hairline, waiting for his judgment. And since Isak can’t tell him to just pick either one because both are fine, he says instead, “Both are horrible, you need to find something else if you want to look good tonight.”

Even’s jaw drops and Isak can’t help but huff out a laugh, just to take the edge of it, just to see Even’s eyes gleam and his disbelief turns into a teasing smile. “Don’t get cheeky with me, or I might have to put you on my lap and spank you to put you in your place.”

Isak’s world screeches to a halt.

Literally. He’s pretty sure time slows down, and he sits there on the bed blinking in order for his mind to reboot. There’s no blood left in his body for his brain, everything has rushed south to make his dick hard and ready in a blink of an eye. He’s not even into spanking. He’s really not. But… he’s into Even, and maybe Even spanking him wouldn’t be too horrible of an idea?

Isak makes this pitiful sound as he chokes on air and flushes, shifts his legs to disguise his surprise boner, and Even stops with his shirt halfway on and looks at him. And the more he looks the more glassy his eyes become, he licks his lips and he starts to look just as affected as Isak. Just from looking.

Fuck.

Isak can’t, he  _ can’t _ , it’s too much.

Even shouldn’t be this enticing, just from being half naked and saying stuff like that. It shouldn’t be possible. It never happens to people in real life, it’s always something you see in a movie or read in a book and you’re always left with this notion that  _ no way people are lusting after each other like that _ .

Except in this case, Isak is. He so is.

He has to do something, has to break this spell, because they said they weren’t going to do it anymore and no matter how much Isak wants to, he has to respect that.

So he teases back.

“Sure, mm-hmm, you’re so big and scary, of course you could put me on your lap.”

Even tilts his head, smiles even wider, the tip of his tongue peeking out, and Isak knows he’s in trouble.

“You don’t think I’d do it?”

Isak laughs, because he absolutely doesn’t think Even would, or more importantly  _ could _ , but before he knows it Even stalks closer, shirtless, gorgeous, and Isak  _ knows _ what’s coming.

“No, Even,” he says and shuffles back on the bed, one hand out in front of him trying to reason. “Don’t you dare.”

But Even just continues to stalk closer. He wears that teasing, devious smile on his face that Isak dreads and loves all at the same time, until he’s close enough to pounce.

Which he does. Jumps onto the bed and Isak, and starts tickling him right away.

Isak is the worst at being tickled. The  _ worst _ . He loses all the strength in his body, turns into this giggling, squirming lump, and he can’t even fight Even off when he goes full on attack like this. Even keeps tickling and Isak can barely breathe, let alone ask him to stop, even though Even is laughing too, saying, “Tell me I’m the strongest,” like Isak saying that would get him to stop.

But Isak is too busy laughing, arms pushed close to his body, rolling on the bed trying to get Even’s fingers dislodged from his sides, and he somehow manages to wheeze out a “stoooooop.”

Even does.

Isak is still laughing, out of breath, with Even lying on top of him laughing as well. Isak loves Even like this, hair in disarray, smile so wide that his eyes disappear, and he looks so free and at ease. It makes something unfurl inside his stomach, makes his heart swell that he gets to see Even like this, because he knows that Even doesn’t let loose for just anybody. It’s a hard-earned privilege, and it takes Isak’s breath away every time it happens.

It makes Isak’s laugh taper off, makes him notice just how close they’re lying. Even is on top of him, his legs spread around Isak’s hips, keeping him in place, and he looks up at Even. Even is already looking back, eyes shot, and his gaze drops to Isak’s lips. Isak can’t help but lick them, just to see, and he’s rewarded with Even tightening his grip on Isak’s side.

“Isak…” he whispers, like he’s asking for permission. And Isak might not know exactly what he’s asking permission for, but he can make an educated guess.

So he says, “I thought we weren’t going to do this anymore?”

Even squints, shrugs, but his voice betrays his indifference when he says, “Maybe just one more time?”

Isak is still so hard in his pants, and he knows that Even can feel it from how he’s sitting, and right now nothing sounds better than coming with Even.

“Yeah, okay,” he answers, breathlessly, sounding every bit as affected as Even.

And then they’re kissing.

It’s like coming home. Even fits perfectly against his body, his lips feel amazing against his. Isak opens his mouth and puts his arms around Even, just wants him closer, and is rewarded with a pleased rumble from deep inside Even’s chest that’s pushed inside Isak’s mouth with Even’s tongue.

Even shifts on top of him, puts his legs inside Isak’s and Isak spreads them willingly. Even slides into place there, until his hips and dick are snug against Isak’s. His hands are on Isak’s chest and Isak can’t concentrate on anything except how overwhelming it is to be this close again.

Even pulls back, frowns as he looks down Isak’s chest and Isak can’t help but lift his head to try to see what Even’s upset about.

“So many buttons,” he mutters, and Isak can’t help but laugh.

He leans up and finds Even’s mouth, and by silent agreement they both start working on the buttons together, making it harder than they need to as their hands bump together, interrupting their progress.

It also doesn’t help that they don’t stop kissing for a second as they’re doing it.

But between them they manage, and Even pushes the shirt off Isak’s shoulders until it gets stuck on Isak’s arms, and then proceeds to pull him up so he can get it off him completely.

“I love it when you wear that shirt,” Even breathes between kisses, voice rough and delicious.

Isak has to kiss him again, so it takes him a little while before he answers, “I know.”

The answer seems to take Even by surprise because he pulls back and looks at Isak with bright eyes, eyebrows pulled together. It makes Isak feel nervous, raw, like he said too much, but before he can freak out, Even leans down and kisses him even harder than before.

And in a matter of seconds, they’re fighting their pants, pulling them off along with their briefs. 

And then they’re naked.

This time they’re lying too close for Isak to see Even, but it doesn’t matter. Even fills every other sense he has. He’s  _ everywhere _ .

Even’s taste is in his mouth, his scent in his nostrils, and the way Even’s grinding against him is making every nerve in his body come alive, electricity coursing through him, making all the hairs on his body stand up.

Isak’s so, so hard, pulsing against Even’s equally hard dick, and every rub, every grind sends pangs of pleasure through his entire body.

It’s so much, it’s so good, and Isak is desperate for more, desperate to come, but at the same time he wants it to last forever.

Even’s skin is so soft under his hands, and he’s constantly moving them, seeking out new places to touch, like he’s laying claim.

Which he’s not, not even close, but he can’t help himself. He wants Even to know that he’s been everywhere, he wants him to remember this just as much as he knows that he will remember it.

So he hitches his thighs higher, puts his feet around Even’s legs, kisses him harder and more and deeper, and grinds against him.

He whines when Even pulls back a bit, head lifting to chase after Even’s lips and he doesn’t open his eyes until he hears Even mutter, “Jesus, Isak. Fuck.”

What he sees makes him flush even harder. Even looks so fucked-out. His lips are so big and red, inviting and perfect, his eyes are half-lidded, hair falling over his face. Isak has never seen anything look so good in his life.

He pulls at Even with his arms, purses his lips to make him lean down again, and Even curses again, but instead of coming closer he pulls back a bit. Isak’s about to voice a complaint, is about to actually use his strength to pull Even down, but then he feels Even’s hand sneak in between them.

Isak’s eyes roll back in his head and his head falls back onto the bed when Even wraps his big, perfect hand around both of their dicks at once. 

He starts moving it right away.

“Yeah. That’s good, that’s… amazing, don’t stop,” Isak whispers and then he can’t speak anymore because Even does this thing with his hand and that’s Even’s dick he’s squashed up against and he’s never felt better in his entire life.

He’s so close, the thought of Even pulling them both off at the same time is so overwhelming. The fact that it’s their combined precum that’s making the glide of Even’s hand easier is almost enough to make him blow his load right there and then.

He fights it, wants this to last and last, but it’s too good, Even’s hand is too clever and he’s working them at a frantic speed, pushing Isak closer and closer and closer.

Until there’s nowhere else to go.

He comes with Even’s name on his lips, with the sounds Even’s making in his ears and he convulses against him, drowns in the waves of pleasure Even’s hand induces in him. Even keeps working him through it, lips against Isak’s like he’s trying to swallow all of his sounds and just when Isak’s done, just when he loses all strength in his body, Even comes as well. Isak loves how he adds to the mess on his stomach, how he marks Isak as well. Loves it enough that his poor spent dick twitches again even though it has nothing left to give.

Even puts his forehead on Isak’s shoulder, lies there and breathes against him, like he  _ can _ , like this is normal. And Isak really wishes it was, desperately wants to pretend it is, so he slides his hands up until one is on Even’s neck, and the other scratches his scalp the way he knows Even loves. He turns his head into Even’s temple when Even sighs, pleased, and breathes him in.

He’s not sure what’s going to happen now. It’s obvious that they can’t just be friends anymore, but can they be boyfriends instead?

Isak knows what he wants. He wants Even, he wants  _ this _ .

But he won’t settle.

If Even doesn’t want him in the same way that Isak wants him, then this really has got to stop.

And Isak hugs him tighter as he thinks that.

He knows they have to talk, he knows that’s the next logical step for them. He just has to find the courage to do it. Because it doesn’t matter how much he suspects that there’s a good chance that Even wants this too. He can’t be  _ sure _ .  

And he’s just not sure how he’s going to survive without Even.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The other two prompts were:   
> “Do you think I look good/hot/provocative in this? Wait is this turning you on???”   
> “You’re intentionally getting under my skin so I threaten to spank you/playfully spank you and now you look like you just got banged against a wall” 
> 
> Don't forget the Friday spoiler on my blog on Friday. And I hope you're all ready for the +1 chapter next Monday. :D


	6. The not so accidental-sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter you guys!! My god, 6 weeks passes fast! 
> 
> A massive thanks to the loveliest beta a girl could have; Irazor. Your inputs made this so much better, thank you for all your patience with my many (hurried) mistakes, babe. <3
> 
> The BIGGEST thank you to you guys!! For reading, for commenting, for kudos'ing, for coming into my tumblr inbox and telling me how much you loved reading this. You're all awesome, and every bit of attention you've given this fic warms my heart and makes me smile. So. Thank you!! <3 <3 
> 
> Okay, I'm gonna leave you to it. Enjoy! :)

Isak lies alone in bed the next night.

Everything’s wrong, he doesn’t want to be alone. He wants to have Even lying next to him, hugging him tight, kissing his hair as he falls asleep.

Isak  _ longs _ for it.

It’s almost a physical ache now. He’s barely been functioning all day, remembers Even’s touches on him vividly. Remembers how Even touched him like it meant something, and he can’t get what happened out of his mind.

What keeps happening.

It has to matter, it has to be more than sex for Even as well.

Isak can’t think about what’ll happen if it isn’t.

He turns over and sighs, annoyed, pushes his head into the pillow as if that will help him fall asleep. He knows it won’t, that he probably won’t get much sleep tonight. It’s always the first thing to go when he’s worrying.

They’d be good together. They would fit so well, integrate in the best of ways. He just needs Even to realize that as well.

So maybe that’s what he’ll do. He’ll show Even what it’d be like if they were boyfriends, how he’d pamper him and take care of him.

Yeah.

Isak can be a pretty good boyfriend when he wants to. If he does say so himself.

His mind settles with the plan, and his body relaxes. He might even be able to go to sleep now.

But instead, he starts making plans, and they fill his head in a way that chases the sleep away yet again.

\--||--

The next day, he’s making Even’s favorite pasta-dish, the one Isak usually makes with what’s left in the fridge. But today, he’s been grocery shopping for it, and has even made sure to buy extra coffee, and now that the finished dish is bubbling on the stove, he messages Even that dinner is ready.

It doesn’t take long for Even to show up, just like Isak expected, and he doesn’t even try to keep his smile down when he hears Even talking from the hallway before the front door has even closed behind him.

“Are you really making my pasta-dish? Did you go grocery shopping without me? Isak, I swear you’d better not be teasing me…” His voice comes closer and closer to the kitchen until he’s standing next to Isak, looking down into the pot that he’s stirring. “Ah, man, you’re the best, this smells amazing.”

Isak glances at Even, pleased to see the big grin on his face, and that easy, relaxed set of his eyes that Even wears around him.

“Anytime,” he replies. And this time, he means it.

\--||--

The next day, Isak lets Even choose the movie. Without even fighting him, without even complaining that _they’ve_ _already seen that fucking movie three times, could they watch something else. _

Because Isak’s good like that. 

\--||--

A couple of days after that, Isak decides he might as well wash the hoodies that Even keeps leaving in his apartment. Instead of just returning them dirty like he usually does. This time Even gets them back all clean and folded nicely.

And the surprised smile he gets out of Even as he does, makes him feel much too happy.

God, he’s so easy for Even.

\--||-- 

After a few more gestures like this, Isak decides that the next move is going to have to be Even’s. Just to test him out (and maybe to not seem too desperate). However, Isak finds himself regretting that a thousand times because Even is taking his time. Isak keeps his phone with him at all times, sound turned up loud, constantly checking it to see if he’s missed a message anyway. It’s slowly driving him crazy.

It takes Even two days to finally message him, and then it’s with an  _ I’m bored, come entertain me . _

Isak would normally be annoyed with that, but he’s too excited to. He counts to ten  _ very  _ slowly in his head, before he forces himself to move leisurely to his hallway, grab his keys and then go to Even’s. 

Even is lying on his couch with the television turned on, and as soon as Isak enters the room he says, “We’re watching Transformers.”

Isak rolls his eyes, says, “I’m not watching  _ that  _ movie again, Even. It sucks ass.”

Even inhales and looks like he’s offended, like he’s about to start a monologue about the virtues of that movie, and Isak doesn’t want to listen to it  _ again _ _._ So, instead, he interrupts Even before he can get started.

“We’re going out, I’m not spending another day with you cooped up in this smelly room.”

“My room isn’t smelly!” Even argues, but he’s already turning off the tv and getting up. “Where are we going?”

Isak shrugs, chest warm with how easy Even was to convince. 

“Anywhere.”

Even stops and looks at him with fond eyes, and Isak really wants to think that it means something, but he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself.

Maybe he’ll find the courage to talk to Even while they walk.

He doesn’t. But it’s nice, walking along  Akerselva side by side with Even, just talking and laughing and joking, hands brushing against each other a bit too often for it to be a coincidence.

But neither of them takes the next step.

So they walk and talk, and Isak is pretty sure that they make quite a sight like this. He knows they look good together and judging from how closely they walk beside each other, he’s sure they must look like a couple. He wishes he could see them from the outside, show Even just how well they match, how perfect they look together.

But for now, he’ll settle with this. Having Even close, being a good friend.

He doesn’t want to ruin it just yet.

\--||--

Shit. He’s running so late, has a lecture that starts in a few minutes and the only chance he has of making it is to ride his bike really fast. 

He slept through his alarm, slept through a snooze (okay, maybe through more than one) and now he’s pulling his shirt over his head at the same time as he’s putting on his shoes.

He doesn’t have time for breakfast, or for coffee. Which is going to be fun when he actually gets there, but this lecturer is notorious for saying things in his lectures that he puts in the exams, so Isak  _ has  _ to be there. 

He glances inside his bag and sees his notebook there. It has got to be enough, he doesn’t have time to check if everything else he might need is in there, so he grabs the bag, throws on a jacket, picks up his keys, and then he’s gone.

Just as he closes the door behind him he hears Even’s door open and Even says, “Wait!”

The only thing in the world that could make him stop right now. So he does.

Even disappears inside his apartment, comes back a few (long!) seconds later with what looks like a wrapped crispbread, which he hands over to Isak.

“I heard your alarm go off a few times this morning, so I made you this.”

Isak is so grateful he could weep. He’ll have something to eat, and might actually be able to focus on the lecture and not his stomach twisting with hunger. Even is  _ amazing _ .  

So, without thinking about it, he leans in and kisses Even quickly on the lips as he grabs his breakfast, whispers, “Thank you,” and then he’s off down the stairs.

It’s not until he’s unlocking his bike, smiling because of Even, thinking about how nice it was of him that he realizes.

He kissed Even. He  _ kissed  _ Even. He kissed  _ Even . _

Just like that. No pretense, no sex, no “friends can do that”.

A full on domestic, boy-friend-y kiss. Right on the mouth.

Fuck.  _ Fuck! _

He needs to get back to Even, needs to explain, needs to tell him that it didn’t mean anything. Or maybe everything, depending on what Even’s thinking.

So he quickly leaves his bike, unlocks the front door and sprints up the stairs, heart pounding in his chest with nerves. His head is a mess, screaming  _ fix it, fix it, _ but there’s excitement building in his stomach as well. Like maybe this is finally it.

And when he gets far enough up the stairs that he can see their ledge, Even is still standing there. Exactly like Isak left him, like he’s frozen to the spot.

“Even…” Isak says and takes one more step up the stairs, one step closer to Even.

Even looks at him. Nothing else changes. He doesn’t move, except for his eyes.

It’s making Isak nervous. So he starts doing what he does when he’s nervous; he rambles.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-- not that I’m opposed or anything, but I didn’t mean to just spring it on you-- not that it wasn’t nice, it was. It was very nice actually, and I wouldn’t mind doing it again. But if you don’t want to-- or we can just forget about it, yeah, let’s just forget about it because you’re just standing there and I was clearly being a jerk and I’m really nervous now, so please say something. I don’t want to have fucked everything up.”

He’s running out of breath and words, and Even is still just standing there. The only thing that’s changed about him is the flush that’s creeping up on his cheeks, higher and higher, turning his face redder and redder as Isak talks.

Isak is dying.

What does that  _ mean? _

His heart is beating so fast in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins, so many nerves that he’s almost panting. Everything depends on this,  _ everything _ _._ He might’ve just ruined it all, or he just might have made it a million times better.

He doesn’t know. He can’t read Even, not like this. Not when he’s not moving. Just those big, blue eyes, looking at Isak like he’s never looked at him before and Isak can hardly function.

“Do it again,” Even finally says. Puts his fingers on his own lips, and Isak can’t help but track the movement hungrily.

“Yeah?” Isak breathes, lungs finally filling again, blood pulsing loudly in his head, the relief just within reach as he watches Even’s lips slowly stretch into a smile.

“Yeah,” he answers.

And Isak doesn’t need anything more, not now, this is enough. Because there’s no doubt what Even means. That he wants Isak to kiss him just as much as Isak wants to kiss him. So Isak rushes up the last steps and then he’s there, in front of Even. 

He wants to pause, wants to look into his eyes and tell him how much he’s waited for this, but he’s too eager, too relieved, too excited.

He steps into Even and smashes his lips into his and it’s messy and uncoordinated and the angle is off, but it’s perfect. Even smiles against him, makes a pleased, happy sound that Isak swallows. And then he tilts his head and there, that’s it. Now they fit.

It’s everything Isak ever hoped it would be.

Even embraces him, pulls him in tight and Isak mirrors him, just wants to be closer, wants more and more and  _ more _ _,_ and to never let go.

He gets a little lost in it, in how amazing Even’s tongue feels against his, in how Even’s body feels under his hands, the sighs Even makes. And then Isak slips his hand under Even’s t-shirt, finds warm, soft skin, and he can’t help but slip it up even higher, wants to touch more, seek out more of that heat.

Even makes another pleased sound, one that goes straight to Isak’s dick and makes him realize just how hard he is already.

He’s good to go.

So he pushes his hips into Even’s, grinds against him to feel if he’s hard too, and he can’t be held accountable for the groan he makes when he grinds against a very obvious bulge in Even’s pants.

“Stay,” Even pants into Isak’s mouth. “Don’t go, stay with me.”

Isak is easily convinced. Nothing else matters but this, but the feel of Even against him, the taste of him in his mouth and the words he’s saying. There’s so much meaning in those six words, so much more than just trying to lure Isak away from his responsibilities.

So Isak puts his forehead against Even’s, opens his eyes and looks at him the best he can when they’re this close, and answers.

“There’s no place I’d rather be.”

The responding smile is worth the cheesiness, he’s never quite seen Even smile like that before. And it feels perfect to be the reason for that.

Even takes a step backward, pulls Isak with him by the lapel and closes the door behind them.

And then, Even seems to slow them down. He’s keeping his distance to Isak, still touching, both hands on his jacket, but his hips are too far away for Isak’s liking.

“You’re way too overdressed,” Even says in a low tone of voice that makes Isak smile stupidly.

He doesn’t even answer, pulls off his beanie, unzips his jacket, and toes off his shoes while Even pushes the jacket off his shoulders.

“Much better,” Even smiles, and it’s so goddamn infectious that Isak’s cheeks feel almost sore from smiling this much.

He leans in, slowly, carefully, making sure Even knows what he’s doing this time. His eyes are locked on Even’s the entire way, and all he sees is this fondness that takes his breath away.

And then his lips meet Even’s.

It’s so soft, just a steady press of lips, just testing how they fit. Isak could do this all day. They’re not hurrying, not scrambling to move things along, they’re just kissing each other. Isak puts his hand in Even’s hair, cards his fingers through it carefully, doesn’t want to snag his fingers on it, wants to treat Even with the care he deserves. The love he should have.

Even sighs into his mouth, leans into him, and it’s amazing how well they just fit together, the way their bodies align. It’s like they were made for each other.

But Isak doesn’t want to get ahead of himself, not yet. Not when there are still so many words to be said between them to make sure this is exactly what he thinks it is. To make sure that it’s what Even wants, too.

He reluctantly pulls back, doesn’t even try to hide his smile as he does, his eyes finding Even’s right away. And there aren’t words for how it feels to see his own joy mirrored back in Even’s eyes.

“Let’s get some breakfast and coffee in you,” Even says.

“That sounds amazing.”

It does. As long as he gets to stay here with Even, all is good.

\--||--

It doesn’t take long for Even to set the table, to take out the cheese and the crispbread, and to have two steaming mugs of coffee in front of them. They’re sitting opposite each other, like they’ve done a million times before at Even’s small kitchen table. But this time, everything feels new.

This… whatever this is between them, fragile and new and so big, makes Isak want to protect it, wants to make sure he does this right, so it stays like this. So they stay like this.

He’s so happy he could burst.

“So,” Even starts, just as Isak takes a bite of the crispbread, watching him chew with a slow smile on his face as he continues. “You kissed me.”

Even does this sometimes. Sometimes it can be endlessly difficult to get Even to talk about serious things, things they  _ should  _ talk about from time to time. And then sometimes it’s like this; Even just jumping into it without warning and Isak scrambling to follow.

This time, at least, Isak has an excuse. He chews and chews, and just when he’s almost done he picks up his coffee, stops with the mug a few centimeters from his lips, answers, “I did,” and takes a sip.

Even smiles, like he knows what Isak was doing and doesn’t mind. “It was nice.”

Isak’s normal response would be to say  _ it was _ , it’s just how he is, but he’d rather go back to kissing Even again sometime soon so he changes it up and instead says, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

Even freezes with his crispbread halfway to his mouth, looks at Isak with wide eyes, surprise painting his every feature, and then he breaks out in this massive smile that Isak can feel in his toes.

“Me too. I’m… really glad you did.”

Isak quickly takes another bite, suddenly much more eager to get this over with, and as soon as he can, he says, “I really want to do it again.”

Even laughs, one of those full-on body laughs, body tilting forward, and he’s so beautiful. Isak can’t believe he’s sitting here doing this. That he’s getting this chance.

But he needs to know, needs to be completely sure.

He doesn’t let Even answer, just blurts out what he’s been dying to say for a while.

“I just want to make sure,” he starts, words tumbling over each other in his eagerness to lay it all on the table. “I want more than what we’ve been doing. I mean I like having sex with you, a lot,” he doesn’t pause here exactly, but he takes a breath. Even’s eyebrows go up and the way he looks so pleased makes Isak smile as well. “But that’s not all I want to be doing.”

Even is all smiles. He sits back in his chair, the perfect picture of easiness if that ridiculous smile didn’t give him away.

“What do you want to be doing then?” he asks. And his playfulness makes Isak calm down, makes it easier for him to say what he wants to say. 

“I want it all,” he breathes, more serious than he intended to, but it’s the  _ truth . _

Even tilts his head, those bright eyes taking Isak in, and it’s like there’s nothing else in the world but them right now.

“I’m in love with you,” Even says, taking Isak by surprise. “Have been for a good while now.”

His words rush through Isak, make him feel alive in a way he’s never felt before. He feels them from his scalp to his toes and he’s so far away from Even, too far away. He needs to be closer.

In a quick move, he gets out of his chair, moves around the table, and then he’s standing next to Even. Even turns his body towards Isak, face looking up at him, and Isak swallows hard, struck with how big this moment is. He gently puts his hands on Even’s face, thumbs brushing tenderly over his cheekbones, leaning down until he’s finally close. Close enough that he can feel Even’s breath wash over him, and he wants this so much. Wants Even so much.

He tries to convey that with words, hopes that Even will realize just how true they are.

“I love you.”

It’s a breath, a whisper, but it’s sure. There’s no doubt that he means it, and he keeps his gaze steady on Even’s, shows him with everything he’s got that this is his absolute truth.

“I love you,” he repeats, just because he knows that Even might want to hear it again. And because he definitely wants to say it again. He wants to say it over and over again, now that it’s out, now that he’s tasted the words on his lips, in his mouth, know how perfectly they fit there, how right they are. He wants to scream them from the rooftops. But he settles for this.

And then Even’s lips are on his and they’re kissing again.

Even stands up slowly, carefully, keeps his lips on Isak’s, and then there’s tongue, and as soon as Even’s standing and his arms are around Isak, the kiss turns heated.

In a matter of seconds, Isak’s right back to where they left off in the hallway, hard in record time, emotions bubbling inside of him. This happiness is too big for his body, fills him with energy that he needs to get out in some way.

And this seems like the perfect way.

Even pushes him back until Isak bumps into the counter, and he spreads his legs so Even can fit between them and pulls him closer.

He moans into Even’s mouth when he does that thing with his tongue, and just like that Even breaks the kiss and leans back from him. He already looks so affected, looks like he’s losing his mind, all just because of a few kisses.

It’s making Isak feel pretty pleased with himself, and he would probably be able to enjoy it more if he wasn’t so desperate to move things along.

“I really need to fuck you,” Even says, and licks his lips. His eyes slide over Isak’s face in a way that makes Isak’s mouth go dry and makes him want to agree to everything Even wants to do. Because he wants it too.

“God, yes. Me too.”

Isak can’t wait to see what Even can do, just how well he can work his body. He’s sure that with those hands and that body he has quite a few tricks up his sleeve, but he hasn’t really experienced too many of them so far.

So he lets Even pull him away from the counter, lets him walk him backward into the bedroom, and it’s like his entire body is vibrating when Even stops him right before they get to the bed.

“Let me undress you,” Even says, like there’s a chance Isak wouldn’t let him, but Isak still nods, to show him that he gets why he’s asking.

Isak loves this, loves the way Even is checking in with him, even though he knows him so well. Even though Isak isn’t afraid to tell him if he does something he doesn’t like. It’s one of the things he appreciates most about Even, all this empathy and care he has for people.

And now Isak’s getting the full brunt of it.

Even takes his time. Pushes Isak’s sweater up until Isak has to lift his arms for Even to pull it off completely. Does the same with the t-shirt underneath. Then he opens one button at a time, slowly, constantly looking up to hold Isak’s gaze as he licks his lips. And the look on his face when he pushes Isak’s pants down, sees the bulge that fills his briefs, makes Isak’s fingers itch to touch, to do the same to Even.

Isak’s briefs quickly follow his pants and socks. And then he’s naked.

Even is still completely dressed and Isak can’t have that, needs to feel him against him, feel everything he is, so he does the same to Even. First his t-shirt, then his pants and socks, and finally his briefs. And then they’re both naked.

They’re standing in front of each other, both looking their fill. Isak’s eyes sliding down Even’s body, down his lean torso, lingering at his erect nipples, down to the dark thatch of hair and the dick that’s standing proud from it. Down his long, long legs. Isak wants to taste it all, run his fingers and tongue and lips over every centimeter of skin, leave his mark on him.

Wants to fall on his knees and worship that pretty dick that suits Even so well and feels so good in his hands. He wonders how it will feel in his mouth, in his ass. How wide it will stretch him. And he desperately wants to know, is suddenly so much more eager for it than he was mere minutes ago.

But before he can act on it, Even moves closer and pushes him down on the bed. He lets Isak bounce there as he watches him with serious, dark eyes before he crawls onto the bed, along Isak’s body until he’s straddling him, face hovering just over Isak’s.

He doesn’t have to say anything. There’s so much intent in what he does, in how he moves, that it makes Isak feel so safe. So he lies there, waiting for Even to make the next move.

Even leans down, pushes his body against Isak’s, his heavy dick resting against Isak’s, and Isak opens his mouth to it, leans up and meets Even in a bruising kiss. It’s teeth and tongue and the wet slide of lips, and it’s so perfect that it has Isak squirming in no time.

Even grinds against him, and the feel of him so close, of all that skin against his, the knowledge that this is his, this is all his, makes him so, so hard and desperate for more.

“Come on,” he whispers into Even’s mouth, and Even makes a noise in return that could mean a myriad of things but that Isak’s pretty sure in this case means  _ yeah . _

Even shifts on top of him, puts his legs on the inside of Isak’s to push them apart, and Isak spreads them for him eagerly.

This time, when Even grinds against him, it feels like so much more.

They’re so close, it feels like they’re touching all over, close enough that not even a piece of paper can get between them, and there’s so much sensation that Isak is drowning in it. He lets himself get swept away, lets himself lie there and enjoy Even working him, grinding their dicks together, making his balls and dick ache with the need for more.

Even’s hands are everywhere, in Isak’s hair, on his shoulders, all the way down to his ass and up to his back again. And every time they’re on his ass Isak’s breath hitches and he wonders if this is the time they’ll stay there. If this is when they’ll find their target.

“Turn over,” Even whispers, gets up enough that Isak is able to, but instead of just lying back down, Isak pushes his knees up under him and arches his back.

Shows off for Even. Ass in the air, shoulders on the bed.

Shows him exactly what he wants him to do and how much he wants him to do it.

“Fuck, Isak,” Even mutters behind him, a hand running down his back appreciatively, and then another until he has a tight grip on Isak’s waist, thumbs resting in the dimples just above his ass.

Isak is shivering, is so ready for more, his hole twitching in his eagerness to get something inside him.

And as if Even sees it, both hands descend, go down and down until they’re both running along his crack, slowly, feeling him out, making Isak whine with anticipation, before they stop at his hole.

Isak holds his breath, isn’t sure what Even’s doing, but just having him so close to where he wants him the most is setting his body on fire.

He pushes back against Even’s fingers, desperate for him to do more, do  _ something _ . And Even makes this sound in his throat, a needy sound that makes Isak sweat all over and then there are two fingers running over his rim. It’s slow, like Even’s getting a feel for it, just those dry fingers testing him out.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Even says, voice full of awe, and Isak pushes his head into the pillow not to spill over with desperation.

Even’s fingers leave him, and he would be ashamed with how his body tries to follow them if it wasn’t for the knowledge that Even wants this just as much as him.

And then there’s the tell-tale crumble of a condom-wrapper followed by a click from the lid of the lube, and Isak is bursting with impatience.

Even puts a hand on Isak’s side, soothing, patient. “Shh, I’ve got you,” he says, and it makes Isak relax enough that he almost startles when there are two wet fingers by his hole, rubbing over it, getting it wet and ready.

Even pushes one in and Isak relaxes around it, already loves it, already looks forward to the next. And he’s too impatient for how slow Even seems to want to go, pushes back against the finger to urge him to move faster. He smiles when he hears Even’s huff behind him before the first finger is joined by another.

Yeah, fuck yeah. Even’s fingers are just as perfect as Isak imagined, as he dreamed of.

He’s already panting, already fucking himself back on those fingers, but it’s not enough. He knows he needs to tell Even how he prefers it, and it’s easy to say what he wants. Because they know each other so well.

“Fuck me, do it now, Even,” he moans, and Even curses behind him, fingers twitching inside of him, touching his prostate unexpectedly, causing Isak to tense up and moan.

“Are you sure?” Even pants and Isak’s never been more sure about anything in his entire life.

“Yeah, come on. I like the burn.”

“Jesus, I’m glad I put the condom on first,” Even says, voice full of humor and it’s making Isak smile as well.

“Always the boy scout,” he teases as Even pulls his fingers out, and shuffles forward. And then Isak’s smile dies on his face when there’s that blunt pressure against his hole that he loves.

The breach is the best part for Isak.

There’s just something about feeling his body give way, how the other person makes room for himself inside of him, that gets to him.

His toes curls as Even pushes forward, he fists the duvet under him and focuses on relaxing through it. As Even moves on there’s that slight burn that pushes a bead of precum out of him. That not-quite-there pain makes him feel alive and receptive, and he can’t help the sound that escapes him.

He reaches back, puts his hand on Even’s thigh, tries to tell him that he’s fine, that Even can continue, because he knows that he doesn’t have the capacity to form words right now.

And it seems to be just what was needed. Even doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t stop, just slides in until his hips are flush against Isak’s ass and he’s buried deep, deep inside him.

Even feels so big, stretches him deliciously, perfectly, enough that Isak almost can’t breathe from it. Even keeps still, stands there with shaking thighs holding himself back, and that’s the last thing Isak wants.

He turns his head, looks at Even over his shoulder, only takes a few short seconds to admire how Even looks like this, looming over him, muscles tense. Holding himself back for Isak.

“Fuck me,” Isak breathes.

Even’s eyes shoot to his, looks at him imploringly, like he’s trying to make sure that this is what Isak wants.

And then he moves.

His hips snap against Isak, hard enough to punch the air out of Isak’s lungs. And before he’s fully recovered, Even does it again.

Isak has to let go of Even to not fall over on the bed. He arches his back, wants him deeper, wants more of him, revels in the certainty there is behind every movement Even makes, trusts that Even trusts him enough to say if it’s too much.

But it isn’t, it really isn’t, it’s so good. The slide and drag of Even’s dick against his walls, against his rim, is shooting electricity from his ass straight to his dick, his balls pulsing with every movement inside of him and Isak has no problem giving himself over to it. He spreads his legs, arches his back even more, pushes back against Even.

And he moans when Even tightens the grip on his waist, when he uses that grip to pull him back against him harder, and it’s so good.

Even is perfect, does exactly what Isak wants him to, moves to the limit, just like Isak loves the most.

Isak’s dick is leaking onto the duvet, his shoulders so far down now that the tip brushes over the fabric with every thrust, and the stimulation is so good, but it’s nowhere near enough. Isak knows that he would be able to come in no time if he got his hand on himself. He can almost feel the relief it would bring to wrap his fingers around it and pull to the rhythm Even is fucking him with, but he can’t, not with the brutal pace Even’s setting.

But then Even changes it up, slows down, leans in over Isak until his chest is covering Isak’s back, until his every breath washes over the sweat-wet skin of his nape. Even kisses him there, tongue working over his skin, tasting him, and Isak lifts his head as much as he can, to get closer to Even, and when they meet, it’s barely a kiss. The angle is off, but Even tastes so good, his lips are so perfect against his that it doesn’t matter.

When Even starts pulling back Isak goes with him, chases him and those lips, like he doesn’t want to let them go. Even puts his arms around him, helps pulling him back, and Isak goes, doesn’t even think about it, just wants to be closer, just wants more.

He spreads his legs as Even continues pulling him back, sitting back on his haunches until Isak is sitting in Even’s lap, speared on his dick, so deep inside of him that he can barely breathe.

His body is vibrating, nerves on high alert, electricity sweeping over his skin making the small hair on his skin stand up and it’s so good. They fit together perfectly.

Even keeps a strong grip around his chest and starts rolling his hips, working himself deeper and deeper inside Isak. Isak arches his back, helps him as much as possible, loves the way Even’s dick stretches his ass, loves how it makes his balls ache with pending release, how it makes his hands itch to grab himself to finish himself off.

He feels the precum sliding down the length of his dick. Without looking, he knows he must be so wet, so ready to come, but he loves this. Loves this build-up, loves to keep it going, to add and add and add and not just give into it. So he doesn’t touch himself, puts his hands on Even’s arms instead, and holds on tight. Works his hips to the rhythm Even sets, turns his head so he breathes wetly and heavily into Even’s hair.

“Fuck,” Even curses, squeezes him tighter. Turns his head as well until he’s kissing Isak’s jaw and cheek, wherever it seems he can get his lips on him.

His breath is so loud in Isak’s ear, almost loud enough that he doesn’t even notice the sounds spilling over his own lips. Isak knows he’s not quiet, but it’s so good, and it feels amazing to just let himself go, to let himself feel everything Even’s doing to him and not worry about how he looks or what he sounds like.

He’s safe here with Even, knows that Even has seen him at his worst, many, many times. He  _ knows _ that there’s nothing he could do that would scare Even away.

He’s never experienced this before. Has never felt that certainty, that overwhelming security there is in having sex with your best friend.

Isak tilts his head even more until he’s close to Even’s ear.

“It’s so good, you’re perfect.”

“Isak…” Even moans, puts his forehead against Isak’s shoulder and his rhythm stutters until he almost stops. Like he feels it too.

There are so many emotions inside of Isak, it feels like he’s brimming with them, like they’re about to seep through his veins at any moment. He can’t take this standstill, needs to move, needs to get the overflow of energy between them out somehow. So he lets go of Even’s arms, slides them up until his hands are buried in Even’s hair, and then he starts working his hips, driving them back and forward, making Even’s dick touch all the right places inside of him.

“Isak, you’re… you’re…” Even tries, but every time he starts, he cuts himself off with a moan as Isak’s hips grind down on him. The grinds are getting dirtier and dirtier, Isak’s own dick pulsing with need, desperate to be touched. And it’s like Even knows because one of his arms eases up on the grip it has on Isak and starts sliding down instead.

When Even finally touches his dick, it takes everything Isak has not to come right then and there. Even puts his palm over the head, spreads the moisture around, gets his hand wet with it, before he wraps those long fingers around Isak’s dick, and that warm, wet hand feels amazing.

Isak stops moving. Stays there as Even starts working his dick, long, steady strokes that makes Isak’s entire body slack, makes him melt back against Even, trusting him to hold him up.

And Even does. Even always does.

He starts fucking Isak again, small, sharp jabs, and Isak knows that’s probably all Even can manage when they’re sitting like this. But the angle is perfect, Even’s dick is perfect, and those exact movements make Even’s dick drag against Isak’s prostate. He’s so close, it’s just a matter of seconds now before he comes.

He’s so far gone that he barely hears what Even is muttering into his ear. But as soon as he does, as soon as his words are registering, “Isak, I’m so close, I can’t hold back anymore, you feel so good, baby, just…” Isak feels everything tighten in his body. Even speeds up his hand, and then Isak is coming.

It slams into him, all-consuming, overwhelming, takes all his senses away until all he can see is white and all he can feel is pleasure. His body explodes with sensation and it washes over him, fills every part of him, squeezing the air from his lungs until it doesn’t even feel like he needs to breathe anymore.

He tightens around Even’s dick until it’s almost painful, but it just makes it rub against Isak’s prostate even harder, makes the orgasm last and last, roll through him, consuming all his energy in what feels like an empowering explosion.

This part he could live in, he could get lost in it, in this absolute pleasure where nothing else exists but this and them. As from far away he hears Even make those telling staccato sounds, hears the sharp inhale of breath, feels him tighten the grip around his chest even more, and then Even’s dick jumps inside of him and Isak knows he’s coming too.

It’s perfect.

Sharing this moment with Even, doing this with Even. Now that they’re finally on the same page and want the same things. Want each other.

It makes his entire body course with endorphins, and as he starts coming down he can’t help the smile that breaks out on his face.

Even is still coming behind him and Isak releases the fists in his hair, strokes it gently instead and puts his lips to Even’s cheek, just resting them there, just to let him know that he’s there.

That he has Even.

Even is panting hard behind him, shivering and sweating, and Isak is sure that he must be quite the sight.

He can’t wait to do this face to face, can’t wait to see what Even looks like when he comes with his dick inside of him.

Can’t wait for everything that lies ahead of them, all the things they get to do together now.

As something more than friends.

As boyfriends.

Even huffs a laugh behind him, his breath cooling the warm skin on Isak’s shoulders, and it only makes Isak smile harder.

“What?”

Even relaxes his grip around him, but keeps his hand around Isak’s softening dick, and nuzzles into his neck.

“I really like you being this happy,” Even answers.

Isak needs to kiss him, he  _ needs  _ to, more than he’s ever needed anything else. He twists his torso, tries to angle his head right, but it’s not good, it’s barely possible for them to put their lips on each other.

So he reluctantly pulls off, winces when Even slides out of him the entire way, and then he turns around and knocks Even over until he’s hovering over him on the bed.

He wants to say something smartass in return, wants to see Even smile and laugh, but Even looks so soft and gorgeous as he lies there, eyes bright and wide, sweaty and relaxed. And it’s all because of Isak. All for Isak to see and have. So instead, he leans down and kisses him.

When he pulls back, it’s to put his hand on Even’s cheek, to stroke his cheekbone with his thumb. He doesn’t even care that what he wants to say is cheesy, he just says it.

“You make me happy.”

And it’s worth it, it’s worth everything to see Even’s eyes soften even more. To have him lift his head to kiss Isak one more time, and then another and another, until Isak loses count of how many times, and stops thinking altogether.

\--||--

Later, much later, when they’ve finally managed to pull apart for more than two seconds, when they’ve cleaned up and put on briefs and a t-shirt, they’re sitting opposite each other on the bed, eating lunch.

“Don’t get crumbs on the bed,” Even warns, but it’s much more muted than it normally would be. Isak can’t help but tease.

“If I’d known this was what it took to be allowed to eat on your bed, I would've sexed you up ages ago.”

Even laughs. Just like Isak hoped he would.

He can’t help but reach out and touch that laugh, amazed that he gets to do that now. Even stops laughing and looks at him with dark eyes instead, as he gently nips Isak’s finger.

“I’ve been thinking about these fingers,” Even says in a low, rough voice, a bit breathless and a lot hot, and a pang of excitement runs down the length of Isak’s spine.

He’s so focused on watching his finger on Even’s lips that it takes him too long to realize what exactly Even just said.

“You lied?” he asks incredulously, can’t believe that he fell for it.

“Well,” Even laughs, deliciously, irresistibly, “I might have bent the truth a little bit when I said I didn’t like to be fingered.”

“Even!” Isak can’t help the shock on his face, but it loses some of its edge when it makes Even laugh. “I can’t believe you lied to me.”

All sorts of questions press on Isak now, one after the other shooting into his mind as he reevaluates what has happened between them these last few weeks. But before he can ask, Even interrupts.

“I don’t regret it, though. You  _ were _ very talented with your fingers,” he says and looks at Isak in that new way, the one that makes Isak’s stomach heat up and his dick twitch. The one that Isak is starting to recognize as something that leads to good things.

And just like that, Isak has lost sight of all those pressing questions and moved onto  _ other  _ more pressing matters.

“Yeah?”

Even leans in, lips hovering just in front of Isak’s, his breath washing over his face, those eyes bright and so happy that Isak feels it everywhere in his body.

“Yeah.”

As Even closes the space between them, Isak decides that just this once he’ll let Even get away with it.

Just this once.

He’s sure he’ll find some way to let him make it up to him anyway. 

And that’s the last thing Isak thinks for a good while because then Even pushes his tongue into Isak’s mouth and there’s only room for how good it feels. How perfectly they fit in each other’s arms, how well they fit against each other. How amazing Even’s tongue feels in other places as well.

Isak’s only regret is not accidentally kissing Even much sooner, so they could have been doing this for much longer.

But this is good too. This is so good too.

No, more than good. It’s perfect.

Just like them. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've had as much fun reading this as I've had writing it. And I hope this last chapter was everything you wished for. :)
> 
> Once again, thank you guys for reading my fics and generally being amazing. Have a wonderful Christmas and a perfect New Year! <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> The first 5 chapters are all inspired by prompts on [this list](https://nofeartina.tumblr.com/post/164447103869/caydenhathaway-ok-but-you-know-what-trope-i-love).
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this! If you did, please leave a kudos and/or a comment, they all make me so, so happy. :D 
> 
> I'm [nofeartina](https://nofeartina.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, come play. :)


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